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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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All the radiators clicked, but they were still cold.
The panic continued and they were back to the old routine of
scuffling the streets, just getting enough to get straight and
nothing more. Marion was able to keep a good supply of sleeping pills
in the house through her doctors, but she was still hysterical most
of the time. Those mornings when they woke up and there was nothing
in the house, having used the last the night before when their
disease convinced them that it would be alright, that they wouldnt be
sick in the morning, she became hysterical and trembled as she shot
up a sleeping pill, occasionally blowing a shot and burning her arm
so it swelled and turned red and she cried and yelled at Harry that
it was his fault they didnt have their morning shot. What the hell
you talkin about? Youre the one who was all hot in the fuckin biscuit
to get off again last night. Well one bag wasnt enough. Its not my
fault it was no good. I needed the other bag. Thats a bunch a
bullshit. You couldve made it on that bag. You wouldve nodded out and
slept like you always do. I do not nod and sleep, and you know that.
And if I could have made it on that bag, why didnt you? You were all
for using it last night. Sure, why not? Whatta my gonta do? just sit
and watch you get high and not get high myself? Then just dont put
all the weight on me, thats all. And leave me alone. You made me blow
the first shot and now my arm is all messed up and I dont know where
Im going to hit. What the fuck ya mean I made ya blow the shot? And
whose the one goin out in this fuckin weather to cop? Youre the only
one who can. If I could I would. Theres no joy sitting here alone,
waiting. Ah fuck you, eh? Just let me get off and get out there and
see whats happenin. Harry shot up a couple of the goof balls and
tried to think a bigger and better flash than he got, and tried to
think himself higher than he was, but though he didnt succeed, he
wasnt sick and would be able to get down some hot chocolate that
would help. As his body and mind started to calm slightly he saw
Marion trying to get a hit with her left hand and she was trembling
so much she was going to blow this fix too, so Harry told her he'd
help her. Krist, youll kill yourself. He tied her up and rubbed her
arm until a good vein came up then tapped the needle into the vein
and they both stared, waiting for the blood to bubble up, and when it
did Marion put her hand on the dropper, Let me, let me. Harry
shrugged and sat back and Marion squeezed the fluid into her vein,
then booted a couple of times, closing her eyes as the hot flush
burned her body and a wave of nausea flushed through her and attacked
her head momentarily, then when it subsided she opened her eyes and
dropped her works in the glass of water. You okay? Marion nodded.
Youd better lay off that shit. Youll burn up all your veins. If you
get up tight, just drop a couple like you used to and drink the hot
chocolate. Marion just looked at him and he shrugged, saying nothing.
They both knew that suggestion was absurd, that sticking that needle
in their arm was important, and just dropping a couple of pills, no
matter how good it made them feel, just wasnt the same. They had to
shoot them. Tyrone called and said he heard there was something
happening so Harry hustled from the house. They pooled their money
because Tyrone would be doing the copping, each one holding out
enough for a few bags, just in case, and not telling the other. It
had been happening so automatically that neither one thought much of
it or even planned it. They simply held back money, telling the other
one that was all they had. They decided to blow some of the money on
a cab so they could get there faster, not wanting to blow it because
they were too late. It was another scene where it was there, or at
least it seemed to be, but it was also a waiting game, and so they
waited, standing on the street, stamping their feet, hands buried
deep in their jackets, trying to keep their backs to the bitter cold
wind, it being too cold to even smoke a cigarette, afraid to go into
a coffee shop for fear they might miss the man. And so they waited
and shivered hoping ta krist that someone wasnt running a story down
on them.

Marion sat at the kitchen table for a while, drinking
hot chocolate and then coffee, trying to think of some way to not
think, of some way to busy her mind, but all she could do was just
sit there trying not to look at her watch and looking at it without
noticing the time. She almost laughed out loud as she suddenly
remembered, They also serve who only sit and wait. Wait! God Almighty
it seemed like she had spent her entire life waiting. Waiting for
what???? Waiting to live. Yes, that was it alright, waiting to live.
It seemed like she had become aware of that in therapy sometime,
somewhere. Waiting to live. Thinking of this as a rehearsal for
living. Practice. She knew all that. There was nothing new in that.
If she remembered correctly—did anything correctly—the shrink she
was seeing when she realized this thought that that was a rather
astute observation ... an astute observation. . . . She chuckled, I
guess that was before I started going to bed with him. . . . An
astute observation. He hadnt heard of Henry James'A beast from the
jungle. Maybe he never heard of Henry James. He was as exciting in
bed as Henry James. Marion stared into her coffee cup. The sides were
stained from frequent use and infrequent cleanings. . . . Like a
beast from the jungle ... He told me that with such an awareness, and
my intelligence and talents, I should have no trouble coming to terms
with my problem and being productive. His favorite word, productive.
That and sublimate. Thats all they want you to do ... sublimate and
be productive. She chuckled, Just dont reproduce. Thats the other
word! Just. Just do it. You ask them how you do it and they say you
just do it. Now that you know the problem you zophtic stop doing the
things that get you into that problem. Thats all there is to it. All
of them. The same thing. Just do it. Just! She stared at her empty
coffee cup, thinking of how she wanted another cup of coffee but
somehow couldnt work up the initiative to move, to get the coffee pot
and refill the cup and then go through the process of putting in the
sugar and cream, and she tried to use her will power—that was it.
Now it was complete, Just use your will power. She stared at the
empty cup. . . . Eventually she got up and started to pour a cup of
coffee and the pot was empty and she just looked at it then went to
the living room and turned on the television and tried to allow it to
occupy her mind but she continued to look at her watch and wonder if
Harry had copped yet and if there really was something out there and
hoping he had sense enough to hold something back so we'd be sure to
have enough and then she gradually became aware of how dumb the damn
show was she was watching and she stared at it, wondering how in the
hell they could put anything so absurdly infantile and intellectually
and esthetically insulting on television, and she started asking
herself over and over how they could do it, what kind of nonsense is
this, and she continued to stare and shake her head, more and more of
her mind being absorbed by the absurdity she was watching, suddenly
leaning back on the couch as a section of the show ended and a
commercial came blaringly on and she stared at them too, wondering
what sort of cretins watch this garbage and are influenced by it and
actually go out and buy those things, and she shook her head,
unbelievable, it is simply unbelievable, how can they manage to make
so many obnoxious commercials, one right after the other? Its
unbelievable, and the show came back on and she leaned forward, face
pinched in a frown as she watched the completely predictable events
unfold, the time passing by as she waited for something to happen. .
. .

Tyrone and Harry damn near froze their asses off. And
to make it worse there was plenty of heat on the streets. The man
seemed to be everywhere. If youre holding you best be off the streets
jim cause the man he out there playin games with every fuckin body an
thats no shit. They talked with as many dudes as possible, trying to
find out where the action might be, but at the same time they didnt
want to spend too much time with anyone, not knowing if the cat might
have a set of works onim an the man come an they all get busted for
mutha fuckin consortin. They walked around as much as possible and as
little as possible. They didnt want to miss Tyrones connection, and
they didnt want to freeze to the ground. They found out that there
was a dude who was holding a nice taste. Who knows how much, the
stories going from a piece to a truckload, but he was holdin, but he
wasnt sellin. He only given it up for pussy jim. The only habit that
mutha fuck have is pussy. He hooked on that thang. An he only goin
for outta sight pussy jim. Ah mean its got to be righteous. Ah toldim
ah giveim all he want, but he say ahm not pretty enough forim. Harry
and Tyrone chuckled inwardly, but it was so cold they just couldnt
seem to crack their faces into a smile, no less a laugh. Eventually
Tyrones man came beboppin down the street and passed them by and
after a few minutes Tyrone followed and after a while Harry saw
Tyrone walking down the block and he followed and when Tyrone hailed
a cab Harrys heart started beating faster and a surge of hope thrust
itself through him and he got a taste in the back of his throat and
his stomach knotted with anticipation. He jumped in the cab and
closed the door. Tyrone was smiling.

The television was still on, but Marion wasnt still
sitting on the couch. She was in the bathroom, bathing her arms in
hot water, rubbing them hard and then spinning them around, trying
desperately to get a vein up so she could shoot up another goof ball.
She was shaking, crying, and dizzy with frustration and cursing Harry
for not being there with the dope and she tried to tie up her left
arm but couldnt seem to do that right or anything else and she
grabbed her head, Oooooooooooo, then started hitting herself on the
head, and then tried to sit on the edge of the tub and slid off and
ended up on the floor and beat the floor with her hands, sobbing with
rage. She didnt hear Harry open the door or come in. Whatta ya doin?
She looked for a second, then yanked herself up, Where have you been?
Ive been waiting all day— Where the hell ya—and I cant stand this
any—You cant stand— more, Marion was trembling and could hardly
speak, do you hear me? and I want something here in the morning—What
the fucks wrong with— do you hear me? DO YOU HEAR ME? DO YOU HEAR
ME? Marions eyes were wide and she grabbed Harry by the coat and was
shaking him, Im not going to bed until theres a morning shot, I cant
stand it, I cant stand this being sick and waiting— Ya think Im
playin fuckin games for krists sake, grabbing her and holding her by
the arms until she stopped, you want to be sure we have some extra
stuff, we were hipped to a dude thats holding some weight, but he
aint sellin. Marion stared at Harry the way she stared at the
television set, eyes wide, not believing but waiting to hear more,
her hysteria keeping her from fainting and giving her the energy
needed to stand stiff. Her mouth opened. He likes broads. Marion
continued to stare. You worried so goddamn much I'll fix you up
withim. Her mouth closed. You wont have to wait so long . . . and I
wont have ta freeze my fuckin ass off in the fuckin streets, Harry
spun away and started yanking his coat and sweater off and tossed
them on the couch then sat at the table and unwrapped the bundle of
stuff. Marion watched for a few seconds, then blinked her eyes and
started walking toward him, then stopped as he got up, and went back
to the bathroom. Think you can get a hit? She nodded and started to
tie up, then Harry shook his head, Krist, are you fucked up, then
tied her up and rubbed her arm a few times and a couple of good veins
came up, There. He dumped the stuff in the cooker and they both got
off. Marion had no idea how frozenly stiff her face and body had been
until the dope warmed it and they started to relax. They dropped
their works in the glass of water and sat back on the tub for a
moment, Harry letting the dope shove out the memory of the frigid
streets, and Marion feeling the sense of security coming back that
she longed for. She leaned against Harry, I dont know what happened,
its just that its getting worse and worse, I dont know whats
happening, but I feel like Im going out of my mind. Yeah, I know. Its
a bitch. What can I tellya, itll break sooner or later. It cant stay
like this forever. She stared ahead and nodded, Its just that I cant
stand being like this. But youre not that sick. Im not shootin any
more stuff than you and— Its different for you. Marion shook her
head, I ... I ... I dont know why it is but it is. I cant stand not
having enough in the house, I just cant, her voice softer, quietly
hysterical, Harry rubbing the back of his neck. She moved, still
staring straight ahead, and got up, Comeon. Harry stashed the stuff
then they sat at the table drinking soda. How much do we have? Enough
for a couple of days. Cant we just keep it all? Jesus Marion, we've
been through this routine a dozen fuckin times. We have to off some
stuff. That is how we get the bread for more. Marion nodded, the
panic gone, but the concern still strong. She alternated looking at
her glass and at Harry, her expression flat, I understand Harry. I
just... I just. . . She shrugged and stared at him for a few moments,
then lowered her eyes and looked at her glass. Theres a panic and
thats the way it is now. What can I tell you. Marion looked at him
again and nodded, blinked her eyes a few times and continued to look
as understandingly and reassuringly as possible. She studied her
cigarette for a moment then looked at her glass as she spoke to
Harry, You sure this guy wont sell any? What guy? The guy you said
had some but wouldnt sell. Oh the guy thats hooked on broads. Marion
nodded still looking at her glass, raising her eyes slightly from
time to time. Positive. Why, you have something in mind? Marion
continued to look at her cup and toy with her cigarette, I'd like to
have more than just a days stuff Harry, I cant make it like this. . .
. Suppose what he has doesnt last long???? Harry shrugged, trying to
ignore the action in his gut, but even the dope wouldnt allow him to
ignore it, but it did allow him to believe whatever he had to
believe. He wanted to say something, but couldnt find the means to
put the words together even if he could find the words. He just
continued to go along with what was happening, go with the flow as
Marion would say. With whats happening he could be no where anytime
too. Marion rubbed her cigarette around in the ashtray, cleaning off
the bottom with her butt and pushing the ashes to the side, Maybe we
should look into it right away. Harry took another drag on his
cigarette and shrugged, If you want to. She continued with the butt
in the ashtray, nodded her head and murmured. Yes. A little voice
inside Harry said, Thank krist.

BOOK: Requiem for a Dream
4.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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