Requiem for a Dream (6 page)

Sara Goldfarb sat in her viewing chair polishing her
nails as she watched the television. Her conditioning had been long
and thorough and Sara was able to do anything while watching the
television, and do it to her satisfaction, without missing a word or
a gesture. Maybe it wasnt perfect, maybe a little polish got on the
fingers and it looked a little lumpy, but who would notice? From a
few feet away it looked like a professional job. And even if it
didnt, whats the big deal? Who did she have to polish her nails for?
Who did she have to worry would see its not so good? Or the sewing or
the ironing or the cleaning? No matter what she is doing one and a
half eyes on the television makes the job, the day and life pass
bearably on. She held a hand out in front of her and looked at the
nails while looking at the television screen between her spread
fingers. She stared at her fingers indulging herself in the optical
illusion that made it look like fingers were piled on top of each
other and that she was looking through them. She smiled and inspected
the other hand. Such a nice red. Gorgeous. Goes so nice with the
dress. Lose a few pounds and the dress would fit like new. The top
started to fall away from her shoulders as she moved and she pulled
it together in the back and leaned back in the chair so it wouldnt
fall again. She loved the red dress. She should be able to lose
weight. She could always let the seams out a little maybe. The
library will have books. Tomorrow I'll go and get the books and go on
a diet. She put another chocolate covered cream in her mouth and let
the chocolate slowly melt and savored the flavor of the chocolate
mixing with the cream center then slowly squeezed the chocolate
between her tongue and the roof of her mouth and smiled and half
closed her eyes as her body tingled with tiny shocks of delight. She
tried desperately to allow the candy to slowly dissolve by itself but
as hard as she fought the urge to bite and chew it was useless and
her eyes suddenly opened wide and her expression stiffened into one
of seriousness as she chewed the candy with intensity and rolled it
once or twice then gulped it down, wiping the corners of her mouth
with the back of her hand. They have plenty of books in the library.
I'll ask for the one I should get. The one that does it quick. Maybe
soon I'll be on the television so soon I need to fit in the red
dress. She stared at the screen aware of the action and the words,
but her mind was still centered on the box of chocolates on the table
next to her chair. She knew exactly how many were left . . . and what
they were. Four. Three dark chocolate, one milk chocolate. The milk
chocolate was a chocolate covered cherry with the cherry juice
filling. The other three was one caramel, one brazil nut, and one
nougat. The cherry was last. That was already pushed to the side of
the box so she wouldnt pick it up by mistake while watching
television. The others were first. Maybe she wouldnt even look what
one she was taking. But the schedule was made. Just like always. The
nougat, the brazil nut, then the caramel. Then wait as long as
possible before eating the chocolate covered cherry with the cherry
juice filling. She always played a game. For how many years the same
game? ten? Maybe more. Since her husband died. One night she let it
sit in the box alone ... all alone for the whole night. Even the
million dollar movie and the late show. She went to bed and it was
still there alone in the box with the empty brown papers that all the
other chocolates had been so sweetly nestled in. She had looked
defiantly at the candy before going to bed. She snapped her head at
the box and felt so ipsy pipsy as she undressed and nestled between
the sheets and fell almost instantly asleep. Her sleep was restful,
as far as she remembered, void of dreams of troubles, then she
suddenly bolted up in the middle of the night, her forehead pitted
with cold sweat, and for endless seconds she sat there staring into
the darkness, listening, wondering why she was awake and what had
awakened her and wondering if someone had broken into her apartment
and was about to hit her and she strained her ears but heard nothing
and sat perfectly still, barely breathing, for many seconds, then
jerked the covers off and rushed to the living room, going unerringly
through the dark to the table with the piece of chocolate and scooped
it up as if her hand had been divinely directed and almost fainting
as the first rush of flavor assailed her brain and she folded in her
viewing chair and listened to herself chomp the milk chocolate
covered cherry with the cherry juice filling, then staggered back to
her bed. The next morning she awoke early and sat in the soft
filtered light, trying to remember something, but not knowing what.
She vaguely sensed that something had happened and assumed it had
been a dream, but as hard as she tried she could not remember the
dream. She rubbed the soles of her feet and then her temples but
still she could not remember the dream. She hit her head for many
seconds with her knuckles trying to stimulate her memory, but
still... nothing. She got up and wandered, unthinkingly, into the
living room instead of the bathroom, turned on the television, and
suddenly became aware of herself as she was standing over her viewing
chair looking at the empty chocolate box. She stared for many long
moments, then she remembered her dream and almost collapsed in her
chair and shook slightly as she fully realized that she had eaten the
chocolate covered cherry with the cherry juice filling the night
before and couldnt really remember eating it. She tried remembering
biting into it and feeling the cherry juice oozing onto her tongue,
but her mind and mouth were empty. She almost cried as she remembered
how she had fought so hard to make the box of chocolates last two
days, something that had never happened before, twice as long as ever
before, and she was going to save the last for morning so she could
say it was three days and now it was gone and she didnt even remember
eating it. That was a bleak day in the life of Sara Goldfarb. She
never let that happen again. Never again was she so foolish as to try
and make it last or save it for later or the next day. Tomorrow would
take care of itself. God gives us one day at a time, so one day at a
time shes eating her chocolates and knowing she ate them. She smiled
at the handsome announcer and reached over and gently picked up her
final chocolate, the milk chocolate covered cherry with the cherry
juice filling, and placed it on her tongue and sighed as she teased
it with her tongue and teeth, feeling the tingle of anticipation in
her body and the slight knot in her stomach and then she could fight
no more and started to ease her teeth into the softened chocolate
covering and continued to exert pressure as the flavors of the
chocolate and the cherry juice twitched in her mouth and then the
covering was parted like the red sea and the captured cherry floated
to freedom and Sara Goldfarb rolled it around her mouth filled with
flavors and fluids that she allowed to slowly trickle down her
twitching throat and then she rolled her eyes back as she bit into
the cherry, but didnt roll them back so far that she would miss any
of the action on the screen. She licked her fingers and then held her
hands, one at a time, in front of her and inspected the cherry red
nail polish then stared through her spread fingers at her television
set, and snuggled into herself as she walked from the rear of the
stage to the front, wearing her cherry red dress that fit so good
since she lost the weight, and the gold shoes that look so rich on
her feet, and her hair was such a gorgeous red like you wouldnt
believe— O, I almost forgot. The hair. It should be red. Its so
long since it was red. Tomorrow I'll ask Ada to dye my hair. So who
cares if red doesnt show so good. Im wearing red. Except the shoes.
Except the shoes Im all red. When they ask my name I'll tell them
Little Red Riding Hood. Thats what I'll say. I'll look the television
camera right in the eye as the little red light is winking and
blinking and tell them Im Little Red Riding Hood.

Harry walked Marion home. The night was warm and
humid, but they werent too aware of the weather. They knew it was
warm and humid, but it remained a fact outside themselves and not
something they were experiencing. Their bodies still tingled and
tensed slightly from the poppers and the laughing, and they also felt
loose and cool from all the pot and hash. It was a delightful
evening, or morning, or whatever it was, for walking the streets of
that part of the Apple called the Bronx. There was a sky somewhere
above the tops of the buildings, with stars and a moon and all the
things there are in a sky, but they were content to think of the
distant street lights as planets and stars. If the lights prevented
you from seeing the heavens, then perform a little magic and change
reality to fit the need. The street lights were now planets and stars
and moon.

Even at this time of the morning the streets were
fairly active with cars, cabs, trucks, people and occasional drunks.
A block away two staggered vaguely in their direction. The woman kept
tugging on the arm of the guy, I gotta pee. Fa krists sake stop so I
can pee. Cantya wait five minutes fa krists sake. Its just anotha
couple a blocks. No. I gotta pee. Back it up the ladder. Whatta ya
think Ive been doin? My molars are floatin. Jesus krist, your some
pain in the ass, ya know that? Yeah? Well it aint my ass thats buggin
me. She grabbed him and they stopped and she lifted her skirt and
hung on to his belt and squatted behind him and started to pee, Hey,
what the hell ya doin ya crazy bitch?— Ahhhhhhhh that feels so
good— You some kindda nut or— Stop wigglin, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh—
Aintya got no shame? He spread his legs tryin to avoid the ever
widening and ceaseless flow of an evenings beer drinking as she
continued to sigh with life saving relief easily ignoring the gentle
splashings that tingled her legs, her eyes closed in absolute ecstasy
as she swayed back and forth, tugging at his belt as she reached the
end of the arc in either direction, he trying to maintain his own
precarious balance and tug her back in the other direction while
doing a quick pantomime to avoid the results of the opening of the
floodgates, Let go fa krists sake, but she continued to tug and sigh
and pee, Ya gonna pullus—suddenly he noticed Harry and Marion and
he jerked himself to attention, smiled, and spread his arms out to
hide his crouching lady friend of the emptying bladder. Harry and
Marion adroitly, though sleepily, avoided the stream and stepped over
it with aplomb and Harry smiled at the guy, Your old ladys a pisser
man, and then laughed, and he and Marion continued down the street
and the guy watched them for many seconds and then an emergency bell
went off in his head as he felt his body lurch to one side and he
tried to resist and maintain his balance, but lost the valiant but
short battle and found himself floating in the air toward the rapids
below, Hey, what the fuck ya doin ya crazy—and he hit the surface
of the stream with a splat and floundered around, HELP! HELP1 while
his lady friend lay sprawled on her back continuing to sigh,
ahhhhhhhhhhhhh, and to add volume and speed to the rivers flow as her
defender and companion of the evening splattered and splashed, I CANT
SWIM, I CANT SWIM, and finally through grim determination and pure
grit reached shallow ground and pulled himself ashore and knelt, with
his head hanging, catching his breath as his lady of the evening
rolled over with another long sigh and curled up in a fetal position
and went to sleep in the sheltering bushes of the rivers headwaters.
Harry was chuckling and shaking his head, Juice heads are too much,
aren't they? They really have no class, no class at all.

He and Marion continued along the streets aware of
the dryness in their throats and a yearning in their stomachs. They
stopped in an all night diner and got a piece of pie with a couple of
scoops of ice cream, chocolate and strawberry syrup and whipped
cream, with an egg cream on the side. Marion paid the check and they
continued to her place. They sat around the kitchen table and Marion
lit a joint. Harry suddenly started to chuckle, That broad was
somethin else. That guy needed a canoe. Marion passed the joint to
Harry, then slowly let the smoke out. They should have pissoirs on
the streets. Then she wouldn't have to degrade herself just to
urinate. Men can go in an alley or behind a parked car and its
perfectly acceptable, but if a woman does it shes ridiculed. Thats
what I loved about Europe, theyre civilized. Harry tilted his head as
he looked at her and listened then half smiled and half smirked as he
passed the joint back to her, I dont know if youre talkin to your
shrink or a judge. There was still a little bit of the joint left and
she offered it to Harry and he shook his head so she carefully put it
out and placed it on the edge of the ashtray. Well, doesnt the whole
thing stink? I mean its utterly ridiculous. Women arent supposed to
piss or shit or fart or smell or enjoy getting laid— excuse me, I
mean having sex. Hey baby, Im innocent, okay? Remember me? I didn't
say a word. Thats okay, I need to practice on someone. Well, go
practice on your shrink. He gets paid for it. She smiled, Not
anymore. You cutim loose? Not exactly. Im seeing him, but not as a
patient. Harry laughed, You ballin him too? Occasionally. As the mood
hits me. My folks ask me if Im still seeing him and I tell them yes
so they keep giving me the fifty dollars a week for him.

Marion laughed loud and long, And I dont even have to
lie to the clods. Werent you ballin your last shrink too? Yeah, but
that got a little tacky. He stopped writing for me and wanted to
leave his wife and straighten me out. . . you know, a real
chauvinist. This guy is different. I see him once in a while and we
have fun and theres no pressure. We just have a good time. And he
still writes for tranks and downers. A couple of weeks ago we flew
down to the Virgin Islands for a weekend. It was a ball. Hey, crazy.
Sounds great. Yeah. So your folks are still footin the bills, tilting
his head toward the rest of the apartment, for the pad and so forth?
Yeah. She laughed out loud again, Plus the fifty a week for the
shrink. And sometimes I do a little freelance editing for a few
publishers. And the rest of the time you just lay up and get high,
eh? She smiled, Something like that. You really got it made. But how
come youre so hard on your folks, I mean like youre always coming
down so heavy onem. They bug me with their middle class pretensions,
you know what I mean? Like they're up there in that big house with
all the cars and money and prestige and collect money for the UJA and
B'NAI BRITH and KRIST knows who else—howd he get in there? He'd
better watch out, we gotim once we'll getim again. Marion joined
Harry in laughing, Yeah, they would too. I mean, thats the way they
are. Theyll cut anybodys throat to make money then give a few dollars
to the NAACP and think theyre doing the world a favor. You see how
liberal they are when I come home with a black guy. Eh, theyre no
worse than anybody else. Harry leaned back and stretched and blinked
his eyes, The whole world is full of shit. Perhaps, but the whole
world doesnt embarrass me. They have everything but culture. Theyre
gross. Eh, gross, schmoss, and he shrugged and smiled, his mouth
hanging loose and his eyes sleepy. Marion smiled, I guess youre
right. Anyway, no point in letting them bring me down. Thats the
whole trouble with pot. Sometimes I get a little paranoid behind it.
Yeah, ya gotta learn how to hang loose, and he smiled his sleepy grin
and snapped his fingers and bebopped his head and they both laughed,
Whatta ya say we get to bed? Okay, but dont fall asleep right away.
Hey, what am I? some kindda nut? They chuckled and Harry splashed
some cold water on his face before getting into the bed. He hadnt
finished stretching and getting comfortable when Marion was leaning
over him, her face close to his, a hand rubbing his chest and
abdomen, I dont know if its the pot or talking about my parents, but
Im horny as hell. Whatta ya talkin about? Its me. I have that effect
on broads. Im irresistible. Especially since the plastic surgeon hung
me, and he started to laugh and Marion looked at him and shook her
head, Dont you ever get tired of that old joke? Talk to your shrink
about it. Maybe its a wish fulfillment, and he laughed again and
Marion chuckled then kissed him and rolled her mouth from one side of
his to the other, thrusting her tongue as deeply as possible into his
mouth, Harry reacting with his and putting his arms around her and
feeling her nice smooth flesh under his hands and caressing her back
and the cheeks of her ass as she rubbed the inside of his thighs and
gently ran her fingertips around his balls as she kissed his chest
and stomach then grabbed his joint and stroked it for a moment before
wrapping her lips around it and caressing the tip with her tongue,
Harry continuing to fondle her ass and crotch as he squirmed and
stretched, his eyes half closed, streaks of light shattering the
darkness of his lids and when he opened his eyes he could vaguely see
Marion hungrily gobbling his bird, his mind electric with ideas and
images, but the drugs and the pleasure of the moment created an
inertia that was delicious, absolutely delicious. The inertia was
suddenly broken as Marion sat up and nested his bird and for hours,
or perhaps seconds, he just lay there with his eyes closed listening
to the exciting squish of joint against snatch—Ride a cock horse to
Branburry Cross—then opened his eyes as he reached up to grab her
boobs, then pull her down so he could tease them with his tongue,
nibbling, chewing and sucking on them as he slid his hands up and
down her back and Marions eyes were rolling back in her head from
time to time as she moved and rolled and sighed and groaned and they
continued their lovemaking until the dawns early light started
seeping through the shades and curtains and the heat of their
love-making cooled in the warmth of the sun and they were suddenly,
and completely, asleep.