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Authors: Hubert Selby Jr.

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Literary, #Urban, #Crime

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BOOK: Requiem for a Dream
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small amount in the cooker, started to tap in some more, then
stopped. Thats enough. Cant take care of business with our fingers up
our nose. They got off and with the first wave from their gut up to
the flushing of their faces they knew that Brody wasnt bullshittin
them and they could cut the shit out of this stuff an still put a
good bag on the streets. Sheeit, we be cutting this four times an
still wont be nobody gettin on our case about burnin them. Yeah . . .
this is too fuckin much man. He say there still some more a this
aroun so we betta turn this ovah as fas as we can and get us some
more jim cause this be out of sight. You know somethin man, we hustle
our asses off and we can cop a couple a pieces tomorrow. Solid! and
they gave each other five then got to work carefully mixing the
heroin with the milk sugar, not smoking for fear of blowing some of
the precious powder into the air or coughing or sneezing and blowing
it into oblivion. They were aware that they were high so they
concentrated very strongly on what they were doing, all their
movements slow and precise. From time to time they took a break and
moved away from the table to have a much needed cigarette. When they
finished they each took fifty bags and went out to the streets. They
didnt like the idea of walking the streets holding so much weight,
but they had no choice. They had to let people know where they were
at, and Tyrone didnt have a phone in his pad so the only way they
could make any contact with the junkies was by going out there
amongst them. Harry called Marion and told her everything went fine
and what they were going to do and she told him that they could use
her number for a while. You sure? Yes. Just use discretion. I mean
dont give it to every junkie in the streets. You know, just people
like Gogit. People you really know. An you can keep the stuff at Tys.
Okay sweetheart, we'll do that. That sure as hell would make it a lot
easier until we get set up with a pad and a phone. I just didnt want
to get you involved, you know? I understand Harry, and appreciate
your concern. But its alright. Great. Okay, I'll see you later. O
Harry? Yeah? Save a little for us? Hey, dont worry. Im way ahead of
you. Not much. You know. Right. We'll get straight later. Seeya. Bye.
Harry hung up the phone and then told Tyrone that they could use
Marions number for a while, We can take the calls there an then meet
later with the stuff. We'll leave it at your pad, Thas great man. But
be cool with the number man. I got it baby. Okay, seeya back here
later. Yeah baby. They split, Harry going in one direction and Tyrone
in the other, the operation being in black and white.

Things went well. Tyrone ran into Gogit almost
immediately and he gave him Marions number and Gogit made his usual
rounds finding out who wanted to cop and pretty soon Tyrone was out
of stuff and had to go back and replenish his supply. By the time he
got back to the neighborhood there were a lot of anxious junkies
waiting for his stuff, the word having gotten around that he was
putting out a good bag. Tyrone felt the excitement run through him
but he stayed cool and didnt feed that incipient hysteria within him
while fighting the urge to take another taste. He was glad that he
had a tase though so that he could stay cool and he told himself to
hang loose and take care of business and then worry about having
another tase. He knew the streets and the scene and knew how to hang
tough and trust those instincts that he developed through his twenty
five years of living that enabled him to survive the streets from the
Bronx to Harlem and he figured if he could survive those streets baby
he could make it any fuckin where an that aint no boolshit jim. An
mstincts were razor sharp tonight. They had to be. He had to let
people know he was holding, but as soon as the word was out that
meant there would be people tryin to rip him off and theyd just as
soon cut your throat as light a cigarette Ones the same as the other
to those cats jim. Theys some down and dirty dopefiens baby, so
Tyrone distributed his stash in a few places and made sure no one was
following him when he took the bread and went to get the stuff. He
was extra sharp and extra alert because he believed that this was his
chance, his one chance and didnt think there would be another one.
Twenty five years was a long time to live in the world he lived in
and he knew that the chances to get out of it rarely, if ever, came
along and this was one and he wasnt going to let it go. He wasnt sure
how all this happened, how he happened to be holding so much stuff
and takin in the bucks, it seemed like it came out of some sort of
dream, but it was here and he wasnt going to let it go. And he knew
if he didnt stay sharp jim it would be more than the dream that he
would lose. And he was tired of losing. These streets were made for
losers. These streets were ruled by losers. He was on his way up and
out. An he didnt so much care about having a big ass El Dorado and a
stable of fine foxes . . . sheeit, one ol ladys enough for me. What
Tyrone wanted more than anything else was not to have any hassles.
Thas it baby, no hassles. Thas all ah seen all mah twenty five years.
Somebody always hasslin somebody. Somebody always gettin up side
somebodys haid. If it aint the man its a brother. Aint nobody ever
satisfied. That scag get into your blood jim, or that juice, and you
go scufflin and beggin for a fix or a drink. Sheeit, that jus aint
for me baby. Uh uh, no way. An ah aint no greedy ass mutha fucka. Jus
enough to lay back with a little store—sheeit, ah doan even care
what kind jim, a dry cleaners, a television, just somethin to keep me
an mah old lady doin fine an not have any hassles. You know, a nice
little place outta the city. In the suburbs somewhere. Ah dont know,
maybe Queens or even Staten Island. Jus a house and a car and some
fine threads and no hassles. Sheeit, we doan even need no garden or
no nothin man, just be free an easy jim like ah loves you and you
loves me . . . sheeit, you doan have to love me jim, you can hate mah
black ass, I jus dont want no hassles.

Harry strolled around the neighborhood, letting a few
people know he was holdin, then sat around a candy store for a while,
drinking egg creams and reading stroke magazines. He did some
business from the store and when they closed he stood around the
streets with a few guys he knew for a while, then moved on to a bar,
then to another one, never staying in one place too long. When he
sold out he stayed for a while seeing who wanted what. A guy he had
known for a long time, Bernie, told him he was going to cop for a
bunch a guys and hed be back in an hour so Harry went back to the pad
and picked up another load and offd that too before going to Marions.
Tyrone called him later an told him how much he had offd and when
they added up their sales they had enough for a piece already and
things were just starting to move. Sheeit baby, now that a couple a
cats knows what we got wes gonna be outta shit before tomorrow night.
Im hip. As soon as we off enough to get two more pieces we'll cop,
eh? You gawddamn right jim. Ah wants to get as much of that shit as
we can. Groovy. Give me a call later if I dont fall by first. Later
baby, and Tyrone hung up the phone and bebopped to his pad. It was a
long assed night jim an he sure would be glad to get his pretty
little ass in bed. He could feel the sweat runnin down his back. He
had spent a lot of time in the streets, but these past hours had been
the worst of his life. He had never thought too much of the streets
except to know he wanted to get away from them. But they had never
been such a personal threat before. He could roam the streets day or
night and it didnt make any difference who might walk by or pull up
behind him, but now it was different. You bet your sweet ass it was.
He never had anything to lose before. He never had anything anyone
else wanted. He was just another black cat, another brother, scufflin
and tryin to make it through one more day in this honkys world.
Nobody feared him and he didnt fear nobody. He just giggled and
scratched his way through the streets. When you know the streets an
stay away from the nuts, those drunken madmen who run around with
butcher knives and guns, then theys just streets that you got to
beat, but when you got somethin that somebody elses is wantin then
you got trouble jim. Then its more than just concrete and tar you got
to fight . . . you got to be fightin the fuckin crazies that those
streets put into dudes. One of those cats by himself is alright. An
the streets by themselves aint no big deal. But when you puts them
together you got the mutha fuckin crazies jim an then you got to look
out for your ass. An when you got somethin somebody else wants you
got some trouble and when that somethin is shit an you walkin those
streets you got some serious trouble. Sheeit. Its a bitch jim but the
only way to beat those streets is to make them work for you. You just
got to out hustle them mutha fuckas man.
 
 

Harry picked Marion up by the waist and spun her
around after he hung up the phone, We're on our way baby, we're
really on our way. At this rate we'll have that pound of pure in no
time and then watch our smoke. O Im glad Harry, hugging and kissing
him, Im so glad. I didnt think it would bother me, but I was worried
the whole night. I guess I never thought of it before but all of a
sudden everything out there seemed so threatening. You want to know
something sweetheart? I was sweatin it too. You get busted with that
much weight and you got a heavy beef, theyre going to lay some heavy
time on your head. Are you going to have to go through this every
night? Naw. Marions face was wrinkled with concern and Harry smiled
at her. We just wanted to push it as much as possible so we could
turn over enough stuff to cop two more pieces tomorrow while we could
still get that great stuff- Then we'll cool it an get some place
where we can lay it off. I hope so sweetheart. Last night was one of
the loneliest nights I have ever spent. Harry hugged and kissed her
again, Dont worry, in no time we wont be goin near the streets. We'
ll off the stuff to the dope fiend pushers and just lay back—but
lets forget all that, eh? Lets take a little taste an lay back and
talk about our coffee house and those trips to europe. They got off
and stretched out on the couch, listening to the music, and went over
their future once more, making more specific plans for their first
coffee house, Marion getting her sketch pad and pencils and sketching
the ideas as they came up with them and soon they had a complete
floor plan for the first one, complete with hanging plants, small
stage for performances, a small aviary in the open air garden that
had grapevines growing over it, and all the walls constructed
specially for paintings up out of the way of harm; and then Marion
started to describe the place she had in mind for the coffee house in
San Francisco and sketched that too and showed him what could be done
with it and how much he would love Fishermans Wharf and the mimes
that perform there and the great restaurants and you know their
theater is really excellent and theres always something happening
there just like in New York as far as music and art are concerned, or
anything for that matter, and she put on the Kindertoten-lieder and
played that a few times as they sat side by side on the couch
drawing, talking, leaning against each other and suddenly laughing or
chuckling and hugging each other and kissing and dreaming and
believing. . . .

The waiting room was crowded. Sara didn't know anyone
there, but they had a familiar look, even the young thin ones. She
filled in the form and handed it back to the nurse and shortly after
was led to one of the examining rooms. The nurse weighed and measured
her and asked her how she was, Fine, thats why Im here, and they both
laughed. She took her blood pressure and asked her how her hearing
and vision were and Sara told her she had both, and the nurse laughed
again then left the room. In a little while the doctor came in and
looked at the chart the nurse had prepared, then looked up at Sara
and smiled, I see youre a little overweight. A little? I have fifty
pounds Im willing to donate. Well, I think we can take care of that
without any trouble. He listened to her heart for a second, tapped
her back twice with with his fingers, then went back to the chart.
You seem to be in good condition. The nurse will give you a package
of pills to take with a pamphlet of complete instructions. She will
also give you an appointment for a week. I will see you then, and he
was gone. Sara got her package of pills and the nurse explained the
instructions so that Sara understood them completely. Okay, this I
understand, but tell me dolly, how much does the doctor charge? He
said to come back in a week and I don't have any money. O, dont worry
about that Mrs. Goldfarb, we'll arrange it so that Medicare will take
care of the bill. O, good. Thats a relief. So a week I see you again.
Right. Goodbye, Mrs. Goldfarb. Goodbye, dolly. Take care.

Sara sat at the kitchen table, the pills and
directions in front of her. So lets see, the purple one I take in the
morning and the red one I take in the afternoon, the orange one I
take in the evening, she turned and smirked at the refrigerator,
thats my three meals Mr. Smarty Pants (the refrigerator frowned in
curious silence) and the green one at night. So, just like that. One,
two, three, four, ipsy, pipsy and the pounds come falling off. So I'd
better take the purple one now, its almost time for my red one, and
she chuckled as she pranced over to the sink to get a glass of water
and take her breakfast pill. She hummed as she opened the
refrigerator and took out the cream cheese and pushed the door closed
with smug superiority and opened the bag on the table and took out a
large onion roll and unwrapped a piece of smoked fish. So look Mr.
Ice Box and eat your heart out. Im splurging. Soon I'll be saving
lots of money on the food bill. She shrugged her shoulders and tossed
her head at the refrigerator and smeared the roll with cream cheese
and picked up loving tidbits of fish, Hmmmmmmmmmm, smacked her lips,
and turned in her chair so Mr. Smarty Pants Ice Box could see her
devour the delicacy.

BOOK: Requiem for a Dream
10.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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