Requiem for a Dream

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Requiem for a Dream Page 7

by Hubert Selby Jr


  Tyrone fell by Marions pad shortly after sunset. They sat around smoking a joint for a while then Marion decided they should eat, Im starving. Yeah, me too, get me a Snickers. Damn Ty, dont you ever eat anything except Snickers? Yeah, Chuckles. Ah digs Chuckles. You sure as hell dont know anything about eating, man. What you need is some good chicken noodle soup. Sheeit, Pepsi and a Snickersll take care of anything. Well, I hope you wont be offended, but I am not going to get any TV specials. When I am hungry I eat food— and no remarks from you Harry, chuckling as he grinned broadly. I didnt say a word. No, but you are thinking very loudly. Sheeit, if he ever had a thought it'd be his first one. They all chuckled and Marion left for the store and came back a short time later with a large loaf of crisp French bread, cheese, salami, black olives, caponata and a couple bottles of cheap chianti. Hey baby, lookit that, soul food. Youd better not let the M A F I A hear you say that Theyd get very bugged. Whats that? The Militant Association ForItalian Americans. They would burn your ass man. Sheeit, the onlyest difference between them and me is that ah smell better. Why dont one of you bon vivants open the bottles while I get some plates. Groovy. Here ya go man. Harry tossed the corkscrew to Tyrone and went over to the stereo and turned on a music station. In a matter of minutes Marion had set the table with plates, silverware, knife and cutting board. Harry poured the wine then sniffed his glass, sipped it, rolled it around in his mouth then smacked his lips. Great bouquet. Full rich body. Hearty yet smooth. A magnificent wine. Must be at least a week old, right? Sheeit I sure as hell dont care how old it is. Just so long as they dont wash they dirty socks in it. Where this wine comes from Tyrone, they dont wear socks. Oooo, this chick is bad jim, ah mean bad, and they continued to laugh and chuckle as they cut hunks out of the salami, the bread and the cheese and wash them down with the wine, sopping up some caponata with their bread or rolling it up in a slice of salami and stuffing it in their mouths, the guys wiping their mouths with the backs of their hands as Marion dabbed at hers with a napkin, then Harry picked up his napkin and started using it. Marion ate slowly and leisurely and Harry slowed his pace to hers. When they finished there were only bread crumbs and salami skin left on the plates. They made coffee and lit a joint. When the joint was finished Marion brought out the dessert, three cannolis. Tyrone dug into his with enthusiasm and Harry battled his trying to duplicate Marions cool way of eating it without the cream squirting all over, by gently breaking off small pieces with her fork and putting them ever so delicately into her mouth and waiting the appropriate length of time after slowly chewing and swallowing before sipping her coffee and dabbing her mouth genteelly with her napkin. When they finished Tyrone leaned back, patted his stomach, Guhddamn . . . now that was somethin else. They refilled their coffee cups and lit another joint and luxuriated in the feeling of deep and all pervading satisfaction, a feeling of knowing absolutely that all was well with the world and them and that the world was not only their oyster it was also their linguine with clam sauce. Not only were all things possible, but all things were theirs. Harry gazed at Tyrone C. Love through half closed eyes, I think maybe we'd better forget about goin down and shapin up tonight, eh? O man, ah dont even want to talk about work right now, not that ah ever am too hip on it, but right now ah just wants to think of Tyrone C. Love an how goooooood he feel. Tyrone looked up in the air for a minute, then smiled, Well maybe ah feels like thinkin about some fine fox, but ah damn sure dont want to have anythin to do with work in any way, shape or form, uh uh. Marion opened her eyes as wide as possible and raised her eyebrows. What is this about work? You lose a bet? Tyr one started giggling, Damn, this a righteous chick, jim. Harry chuckled for a minute then ran down their idea about working for a short time, a very short time, and getting enough bread together to get a piece of Brodys shit and cut it and off it. When he finished Marion was actually listening. She agreed that it was a good idea, But I just cant see you guys getting there at that time in the morning. Well, we'll make it. You may make it there, but how long are you going to last? Hey baby, dont be a bring down, ah feels too good. We figure we'll cop some bennies and thatll get us through. They all smiled and nodded. Well, if thats all you want I can take care of that. I always have a supply of dexies and downers. Sheeit, dont rush it now. We needs time to think about this, right man? Harry laughed, Dont panic Ty, we aint goin to work tonight. You bet your sweet ass ah aint. Uh uh. No way ahm gonna blow a nice high like this. They laughed, then Harry got serious for a moment. How about tomorrow? We'll cool it during the day and when we're ready to go we'll drop some dexies and take a few with us just in case. Whatta you say Ty? Sheeit, ahm down jim. But remember, tomorrow. Mah sainted mutha always tole me dont never do today what you can put off till tomorrow. An there be a fox ahm goin to see tonight that aint about to let me go before tomorrow. You have enough dexies to keep us working? You know we aint about to make it on the natch. Of course. I told you I have a couple of doctors writing for me. Then we're cool. Tomorrow night we make it, right? You got it baby, and they slapped palms. We is on our way.

  Sara was in her viewing chair, watching the television, reading her diet book and rationing the chocolates to herself. She read the introduction and then skimmed and skipped through the various chapters dealing with the need to be the proper weight, the charts that showed the proper weight for each height, the charts that showed the incidence of various disease with pounds and percentage of overweight. It was a case of lose weight or suffer a lingering and ignoble death. Then came the chapter that proved why this method was superior to all other methods and how the chemical balance created in the body from this diet would force the body to burn its fat and the pounds would melt away like ice in the sun. That sounds nice. Maybe tomorrow I'll get some sun. She continued to read and finally started skipping pages, I believe already, but wheres the diet???? At last. After almost a hundred pages she came to the diet. FIRST WEEK. She took the entire page in at once. She blinked, then sectioned it off and looked at it. It didn't change. Then she read it. Line by line she read the entire page. It remained the same. She rummaged around, without looking, in the chocolate box for a chocolate covered caramel and

  chewed and sucked on it as she continued to stare at the page in disbelief.

  BREAKFAST

  1 hard boiled egg

  1'2 grapefruit

  1 cup black coffee (no sugar)

  LUNCH

  1 hard boiled egg

  1'2 grapefruit

  1'2 cup lettuce (no dressing)

  1 cup black coffee (no sugar)

  DINNER

  1 hard boiled egg

  1'2 grapefruit

  1 cup black coffee (no sugar)

  NOTE: Drink at least 2 quarts, 64 oz., 8 8-oz. glasses of water each day.

  Sara continued to stare and chew. She looked very carefully between the lines having heard that that was where the real information was. Every night on the news that nice young man with the mustaches and glasses, always said, "Reading between the lines it becomes obvious that what was really said is . . ." She looked. She stared. She held the book at various angles, but all she could see was white paper. Then it finally penetrated. She slapped her forehead. Such a klutz. If this is the first week then there's something different for the second week. Of course. They keep adding food. Thats what it is. She quickly turned the page and stared ... it was the same. Exactly the same. Why would— Ach, so thats the difference. She looked very carefully at the luncheon menu for the second week and it was different. The egg was replaced with a 4 oz. meat patty, broiled. She quickly looked at the third week menu. The meat patty was replaced with 4 oz. of fish, broiled. She dropped the book on her lap and reached over for another chocolate. Any kind of chocolate. She stared at her set. How could that be? How could you eat only that? A mouse would starve already on that. She felt hollow inside. A profound sadness started to pervade her being. Her head started to hang forward and she had to raise her eyes in order to see the screen. She felt forlorn, utterly devastated and alone.
Absolutely alone. Completely alone. Her throat was constricting and tears were rapidly building up behind her eyes. She kept blinking them back and then she noticed herself dressed in her red dress, her hair a gorgeous red, walking across the screen, so slim, so trim, so sexy. Such curves. How many years now since she had such curves? Who can remember? When she first met Seymour she had curves. She was firm then. Thats right, firm. Curvy. O how Seymour used to look. And touch. He used to tell me how all his friends envied him I was so beautiful. Zophtic. Thats what I was, zophtic. She watched herself stand with the announcer as she was introduced to the audience and she could hear the applause and the wolf whistles. She smiled at the audience. Maybe they want me for a regular TV show when they see how I look? Maybe a Ziegfield girl. She tilted her head this way and that as she watched herself on the screen, and her face widened in an appreciative smile. So whats the big deal about only eating a few eggs for awhile. I'll drink lots of water and think thin and the weight will melt off . ... just like that. Eh, big deal. Who needs a danish? She finished the chocolates so they shouldnt go to waste, then went ipsy pipsy into the bedroom, eagerly looking forward to getting up in the morning and starting the diet that would melt pounds off like that, and lead her to a new life. She even sang a little "By Mir Bist Du Schon," as she undressed. The sheets felt cool and refreshing, the darkness friendly. She sighed into her pillow and squirmed into a soothing position and watched the little pellets of light bounce off her closed eyelids until they finally disappeared and her mind was filled with Seymour and their many years of joy. She breathed and smiled a prayer for Seymour . . . and Harry. He was always such a good boy. How she used to love to make over him. She could still see those chubby little thighs and take bites out of them, Such joy, such joy, in the carriage along the boulevard and in the park ... O, if only they could stay babies forever .. . mommy, mommy, looky. . . . O Harry, God should bless you so you don't have pain. . . . Ahhhhh, my boy. ... Be well and happy and make a good wedding. . . . Ahhhhhhh, a good wedding. . . . And the summer before the wedding. Remember Seymour? The Mardi Gras. My first time in Coney Island. Clowns, and dragons and floats and confetti . . . the sun . . . remember the sun that day Seymour? I can feel it now. And we went on the carousel ... I can hear it ... it was somehow different that day. O, Seymour, so many days were different for us ... and you used to grab me, Sara chuckled and squirmed slightly, and say such things. . . . Im going on the television, Seymour. What do you think of that? Your Sara on television. Adas fixing my hair. Red. Like the dress. Sort of. Remember, I wore it for Harrys bar mitzvah? Well, the hair isn't so good but Ada will make it nice. Can you imagine, your Sara on the television? Did you ever think it could be? Maybe I'll stay a long time. They might want me for some other show too. Remember, they discovered Lana Turner in a drugstore? Remember? I think Swabs? Who knows? Its like a new life Seymour. Its already a new life . . . and Sara Goldfarb, Mrs. Seymour Goldfarb, nuzzled her cheek into her pillow and smiled such a nice smile that even in the dark it glowed with the joy that flowed from her heart and through her entire being. Life was no longer something to endure, but to live. Sara Goldfarb had been given a future.

  Harry and Marion got off on the last of his stuff and made it on the couch grooving behind the high and the music. There was a softness in the music that they automatically focused on, a softness in the light that glowed from the top and the bottom of the shades and glowed in widening circles, and filtered through the multicolored sides of the shades and ever so gently pushed the darkness into the far corners and soothingly coated the room with a hint of color that was friendly to their eyes; and there was a kindness and tenderness in their attitudes as they held each other and turned their heads to avoid blowing smoke in each others face; even their voices were low and gentle and seemed a part of the music. Harry was brushing the hair back from Marions forehead, noticing how the dim light reflected from the perfect blackness of her hair and made the outline of her nose and high cheekbones seem to shimmer. You know something? Ive always thought you are the most beautiful woman Ive ever seen. Marion smiled and looked up at him, Really? Harry nodded and smiled, Since the first time I met you. Marion reached up and caressed his cheek with the tips of her fingers and smiled tenderly, Thats nice Harry. Her smile broadened, That really makes me feel good. Harry chuckled, Good for your ego, eh? Well I cant say that it does it any harm, but thats not what I mean. It makes me feel good all over, like .. . well, you know lots of people tell me things like that and its meaningless, completely meaningless. You mean because you think theyre putting you on? No, no, nothing like that. I dont know or care if they are. I guess maybe they really mean it, but from them, Marion shrugged, it just doesnt mean anything to me. They can be the most sincere person in the world and I feel like asking them what that has to do with the price of coffee, you know what I mean? Harry nodded and smiled, Yeah. . . . She looked into Harrys eyes for a moment, feeling the tenderness in her look, But when you say it I hear it. You know what I mean? I really hear it. It has meaning to me. I mean, like its important and I not only hear it, but I believe it with all of me . . . and it makes the inner me feel good. Harry smiled, Im glad. Because you make me feel good. She turned excitedly, You know why? Its because I feel that you really know me, the real me. Youre not just looking at the outside, Marion looked even more intently into Harrys eyes, but youre looking at my inner being and seeing that there is a real person inside. All my life Ive been told Im beautiful, a, quote, Raven Haired Beauty, unquote, and I was told that because that was supposed to make everything alright. Dont worry honey, youre a beauty, everything will be alright. My mothers an absolute nut like that. Like thats the Alpha and Omega of existence. Like if youre beautiful you dont feel pain or have dreams or know the despair of loneliness. Why should you be unhappy, youre so beautiful? My God they drive me nuts, like all I am is a beautiful body and nothing else. Not once, never, have they ever tried to love the real me, to love me for what I am, to love me for my mind. Harry continued to stroke her head and caress her cheek and neck and gently rub the lobe of her ear, smiling as she moved her head and softened her smile as he caressed her. I guess we're kindred souls and thats why we can feel so close to each other. Her eyes glowed even more intensely as she turned and leaned on an arm and looked at Harry, Thats what I mean. You see, you have feelings. You can appreciate the inner me. Like right now I feel a closeness between us that Ive never felt with anyone before . . . anyone. Yeah, I know what you mean. Thats how I feel. I don't know if I can put it into words, but— Thats just it, it doesnt need words. Thats the whole point. Like whats the use of all those words when the feelings arent behind them. Theyre just words. Like I can look at a painting and tell it, youre beautiful. What does it mean to the painting? But Im not a painting. Im not two dimensional. Im a person. Even a Botticelli doesnt breathe and have feelings. Its beautiful, but its still a painting. No matter how beautiful the outside may be, the inside still has feelings and needs that just words dont fulfill. She nestled into his chest and Harry put an arm around her and held her hand, Yeah, youre right. Its not just the outside thats beautiful, but they dont know. Its hopeless. Thats why you cant be worried about the world. Theyll just do you in anyway. You cant depend on them because sooner or later theyll turn on you or just disappear and leave you there alone. Marion frowned for a moment, But you cant shut everyone out. I mean you have to have someone to love . . . someone to hold on to ... someone— No, no, I don't mean that, Harry pulled her back to his chest, I just mean that bunch of lames out there. Someone like you could really make it alright for me. With you with me I could really do something. Marion almost sighed, Do you really mean that Harry? Do you really think I could inspire you? Harry looked into her eyes, then at her face and gently glided the tip of a finger over her cheek and traced the outline of her nose, his face and eyes in a soft and tender smile, You could really make my life worth while. A guy needs something to give his life a reason or whats the point of living? I need more than the streets. I
don't want to be a floating crap game all my life. I want to be something . . . anything. Marion hugged him tightly, O Harry I think I really can help you be something. Theres something in me thats crying to come out but it needs the right person to open the lock. You can unlock it Harry. I know it. Harry put his arms around her as she cuddled into him. Yeah, I bet we could. He stroked her head for a moment as he looked up at the ceiling, Thats why I want to get some money and buy a piece. I dont want to spend my life hustling the streets and end up like the rest of them. If I can just get some money I can go into a business and settle right into it. He looked at Marion and smiled, I never told anybody this, but Ive always wanted to open a coffee house theater sort of place. You know, it would have good food and pastries and different kinds of coffee and hot chocolate and teas from all over the world, Germany, Japan, Italy, Russia, all over. And it could be sort of a theater group where youd have performances at night and maybe mimes doing little skits from time to time. I don't know, I havent really got it all straight, but— Marion sat up, O, that sounds fantastic. Thats a great idea Harry. O, you could even have paintings by young painters on the wall. It could be sort of a gallery too. Sculpture. Harry nodded, Yeah. That sounds good. O Harry, lets do it. O lets. Its a terrific idea. I can get the painters without any trouble. O, and we could have poetry readings a couple of nights a week O Harry its so exciting and it could work, I just know it could. Yeah, I know. I figure it may take time, but I could probably open up a couple of them. You know, after the one here gets going we could go to Frisco and open one. O, you would love San Francisco, Harry. And I know enough people there to get it going, the mimes, the poets, the painters, I know them all, and who knows what could happen after that. Harry smiled, Yeah. But we have to make sure its goin right here before we go spreading our wings. O, I know. But we can still plan. How long do you think it will take to get the money? Harry shrugged, I dont know. Not long. Once we cop the first piece it will be pretty easy after that. She hugged him, O Harry, Im so excited. I cant tell you. Harry chuckled, I never would have guessed. They laughed and put their arms around each other and kissed, first gently, then more passionately, and Harry pulled his face back a few inches and looked lovingly at Marion, I love you, and kissed her on the tip of her nose, her eyelids, her cheeks, then her soft lips, her chin, her neck, her ears, then nuzzled his face in her hair and caressed her back with his hands and breathed her name in her ear, Marion, Marion, I love you, and she gently moved with the flow and felt his words and kisses and feelings flow through her, easing away all her problems, her doubts, her fears, her anxieties and she felt warm and alive and vital. She felt loved. She felt necessary. Harry felt real and substantial. He could feel all the loose pieces starting to fall into place. He felt on the verge of something momentous. They felt whole. They felt united. Though they were still on the couch they felt a part of the vastness of the sky and the stars and moon. They were somehow on the crest of a hill with a gentle breeze blowing Marions hair flowingly; and walking through a sunlit woods and flower studded field feeling the freedom of the birds as they flew through the air chirping and singing and the night was comfortingly warm as the soft filtered light continued to push the darkness into the shadows as they held each other and kissed and pushed each others darkness into the corner, believing in each others light, each others dream.

 

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