Requiem for a Dream (29 page)

Harry and Tyrone were holding out a little more on
each other each day. If one guy somehow got caught short and his nose
and eyes were running and his body shivering as they scuffled and
hustled the street trying to cop, and asked the other one to give him
a taste, the guy swore up and down he had nothing, that he had just
done in his cottons, and he would start shaking, trying to fake his
friend out.

They roamed the streets in the snow, the sleet,
fighting the freezing winds, sometimes hustling from one spot to
another all night, always just missing the connection, and other
times they were able to cop within a couple of hours. Everywhere they
went there were thousands of sick junkies trying to cop or get cop
money, and when they did get their hands on some shit they split to
get off, but they didn't always make it and dying and dead bodies
littered the hallways and debris of abandoned buildings. Like the
others, Harry and Tyrone ignored the bodies and remained huddled in
their jackets and their needs, saying nothing to each other, saving
their energies to find someone who was holding. Then they would get
off and cut the bags as much as possible and off as much as they
could and start the search all over again.
 
When
Marion was home alone, she would take out her stash and look at the
bags, enjoying the feeling of power and security she felt. She was
seeing Big Tim a couple of times a week. Now she told Harry she was
only getting six bags, that was why she was going so often. Harry
didnt even bother wondering if he believed her or not, he just took
three of the bags, not telling Tyrone about it, and whenever he
copped he always held back a few bags on Marion, and when the pangs
of conscience started to disturb him they were readily dissolved by
the heroin.

Occasionally Marion would notice her sketch pads and
pencils and the memory of the plans for the coffee house and some
other vague memories started to work their way to her consciousness,
but she just pushed them aside and stared at the tube, thinking about
her stash. A few times the pangs of remorse would start to unnerve
her as she stared at a scene of sunny Italy in a Cinzano ad, but she
just reminded herself that she had been, and a bag of good stuff was
a hell of a lot better than a mob of garlic smelling italians.

Harry and Tyrone were standing in the wet snow,
freezin their asses off, waiting for the connection, again, and
listening to the other dudes talk about how all the big time
connections were in Florida sittin on their mutha fuckin asses in the
sun while they were up here ass deep in the mutha fuckin snow. Yeah,
an those mutha fuckas sitting on all that dope too jus to git the
fuckin price up jim and thats the onlyest reason they doin it.
Sheeit, they be a bunch a stoned mutha fuckas man, ah mean they be
some stoooooned pricks jim. Harry and Tyrone had heard the same old
bullshit a million times just like the rest of them, but they never
tired of listening and nodding their heads, just like everyone else,
cursing the bastards for starting the panic just so they could make
more money when they were fuckin millionaires a dozen fuckin times
over already. The intensity of their anger not only helped pass the
time, but helped create a little much needed inner warmth. By the
time they finally did cop that night they were numb with the cold and
had a difficult time walking. Harry stopped off at Tyrones to get off
before continuing to Marions. They sat around smoking and relaxing
when Harry started thinking about those pricks who were sittin in the
sun and wondered what would happen if someone went down there to cop.
Tyrone looked at him with droopy eyes, What you talkin about? Whatta
my talking about? just what I said. Everybodys up here scufflin just
to stay alive and still gettin ripped off or knocked off, and nobodys
thought about goin right to the fuckin source man. What the fuck you
talkin about? goin up to the mutha fuckin room clerk at some hotel an
askin for a connection? Sheeit. Comeon Ty, get with, eh? You tellin
me you cant nose out some dope when its around? Thas here man. The
Apples mah neighborhood. What the fuck ah know about Miami? Them
mutha fuckin eyetzlians aint sitting aroun jus waitin for me to show
up jim. I'll take care of that. I know how those bastards operate.
Thats no sweat. Tyrone looked at him for a few seconds, Thas a long
ass walk jim. Not if youre drivin. Look man, its coleran hell and
those streets are hotteran a bitch. Guys are gettin knocked off like
theyre giving blue chip stamps with every dead dope fiend. Man, we
got nothing to lose, Harrys enthusiasm increasing the more he talked
about it. Tyrone was scratching his head, If its such a good idea
then why aint somebody else thought of it? Because theyre assholes.
Harry was sitting on the edge of his chair, his face glazed with
sweat. And thats just it, nobody else has thought of it. Its wide
open. Tyrone continued scratching and nodding, an if we can get there
before anyone else we can name our own price and sit back an be cool
and have those fools scufflin the streets for us. Tyrone continued
scratching, Las summer was a ball jim, he suddenly frowned and tilted
his head, seem like a thousan years since las summer. Sheeit. Itll be
back like that after we get some weight. Why doan we fly down there?
We be there an back in one mutha fuckin day. Harry was shaking his
head, No man. No fuckin good. We'll need a fuckin short when we get
there, right? Tyrone nodded. An we can get there in a day easy. We
got enough shit to last an we can get some uppers from Marion. No
problem. Tyrone had been scratching and looking up at the ceiling.
Gogit could probably get us a short easy enough we promise him some
dynamite scag. That mutha fucka can dig up any-thin, even the daid.
Harry laughed and continued nodding energetically, their desperation
making everything seem so simple, An its warm in Florida man.

Harry told Marion that they had heard where there was
some dynamite shit and asked her for some money. The more we get the
better off we are. Where you getting it? Harry shrugged, Cant really
say, but its out of state. Be a few days or so, you know. Marion
thought for a few seconds, I dont know Harry, Im just about out of
the rent money now. Dont sweat it. In a couple a days we'll have a
sack full a shit and plenty of bread. Marion thought for another
moment, knowing she could spare a hundred dollars without any trouble
and thinking it would be great to have even more dope than she had.
And too, she would be completely free for a few days and she could
keep all the stuff she got from Tim, and if she saw him every day she
would have a nice taste stashed. Okay, Harry, I can give you a
hundred dollars, but I have to have it back before the end of the
month, I need it for my rent. Harry dismissed her concern with a wave
of the hand, We're gonta be doing some driving so youd better lay
some of those uppers on me. We want to make this a fast trip.

Marion called Big Tim after Harry left and in a short
time she was on her way downtown, thinking of how many bags she would
have by the time Harry got back, feeling independent of Harry. Gogit
had no trouble getting them a car. It wasn't much of a car, but it
ran. A cousin was doing some time on Rikers and he conned his aunt
out of the car, telling her he would take care of it so the tires
wouldnt rot, and the battery get run down, or the kids strip it to
the frame some night.

Harry and Tyrone got their shit together and got off
just before leaving, about nine oclock at night. They figured they
would miss all the heavy traffic then and with the uppers they could
drive through the night without any trouble and get into Miami at a
good time. Harry was having more and more trouble finding a vein,
having to go into his fingers, but they were proving to be no good
too, and he sure as krist didnt want to blow a fix now. A bag of shit
was too precious these days. So, from time to time, he would be
forced to go back into a spot in his arm that had been festering
occasionally and was now a hole. He always made up his mind he would
stay away from it, but when he was getting off he just couldnt go
through the hassle of trying to find another spot so sooner or later
he would just drop the needle in the hole in his arm and squeeze the
shit in. Tyrone would shake his head, Thats a nasty mutha fucka jim,
you should learn to get some ropes like me. Thas the trouble with you
honkys, you too sof. Thats okay man, just as long as the shit gets
where its goin ... an just as long as we get where we're goin.

It was cold and windy when they left, but dry. Ah
sure hope this mutha fuckin heater works jim. Harry was driving,
Tyrone staring at the heater controls, turning the heater on every
few seconds, then turning it off as cold air whirled around his feet.
They were almost on the Jersey Turnpike before the air from the
heater was warm, Sheeit, there it goes. I guess this aint goin to be
such a bad trip.

The radio wasnt too bad and so for the first few
hours they finger popped, dug the sounds, and drove as rapidly as
possible along the turnpike, keeping their eyes open for the cops,
not wanting to be stopped for anything. The night was soothing and
comforting. And it felt still. The lights from the occasional car
passing made them feel warm and secure in their well heated car. The
lights from distant houses or nearby power towers and factories
twinkled in the cold air, but their attention was on the road and the
distance between them and Miami. From time to time Harry would become
aware of the ache in his arm, then straighten it slowly and adjust it
on the arm rest. Every now and then Tyrone would check the odometer
and announce how much closer they were to Miami and all that warm sun
and fine shit. Yeah man, an when we get back with all that stuff
we're gonta be cool. Right on baby. We're not gonta let anybody know
we got weight, we're just gonta cut that stuff and slip out a few
bundles a night to those dudes like we just copped it ourselves. You
damn right jim. Ah dont want all those runny nosed dope fiens bangin
down mah door. Tyrone rubbed his head and looked out the window at
the snow and frozen slush that was gray and spotted with black, the
lights picking out a rare spot of white where the surface snow had
been ripped away. How much you figure we get? I dont know man, maybe
two pieces. You really think we get that much? the mutha fuckin price
is gone crazy jim. Yeah, yeah, I know, but I figure a grans gotta get
us two pieces even with this panic. We're schleppin the stuff and
takin all the heat. Thats gotta be worth somethin. Yeah, Tyrone was
smiling and leaning back in his seat, an we be cool till this mutha
fuckin panic and winter is gone jim. Maybe I'll get me a sun lamp an
jus lay back like you honkys, Tyrone let his teeth hang out in a wide
grin. Harry glanced at him and started laughing, then snorting as he
fought to control himself and keep his eye on the road. Hey baby, be
cool, we got a long way to go.

After driving for a few hours they stopped at a
Howard Johnsons and bundled their clothes around them as they hustled
from the car. They ordered soda and pie then went to the mens room.
Harry very gently took his jacket off and rolled up his shirt sleeve.
The hole in his arm was hurting so bad now that he wasnt laughing and
talking about all the dope they would have soon. He and Tyrone looked
at it for a moment and Tyrone shook his head, Thats lookin bad jim.
Yeah, it sure as hell aint pretty. Harry shrugged, O well, fuck it,
I'll take care of it when we get back. Yeah, but you best not use
that anymore. You best be getting off somewhere else. Yeah. They each
went into a separate stall to get off and Harry tried to work up a
usable vein in his right hand but no matter how hard he tried he
couldnt get anything close to what he wanted so he just went back
into the old reliable hole in his left arm rather than taking the
chance of blowing a fix. It hurt like hell for a minute, but it was
worth it, and soon it was just a dull ache again. They drank a few
glasses of soda after eating their pie and grooved behind the dope
and the waitress and giggled and scratched for a while, then dropped
another dexie, got a couple of containers of coffee, and split and
continued toward Miami and the connections. They were quiet for a
while, listening to the music and feeling warm and secure with the
dope and the future, each smiling inwardly thinking about the end of
their problems and the panic, at least for them. Then the dexies
loosened their tongues and they started nodding in time to the music,
singing, finger poppin and rapping endlessly, Tyrone announcing how
much closer they were to Miami, from time to time, and the
connections.

Harry was still driving when the sun started to come
up. Damn, we been ridin all night an there still be snow on the mutha
fuckin groun jim. How far south you got to go before they be no snow?
Very far man. This panic and cold spell goes right down to Florida.
They stopped for coffee and dropped a couple more uppers, then went
to the mens room, one at a time, and got off, got a couple of
containers of coffee and split. Tyrone got behind the wheel and Harry
stretched out in his seat, trying to rest his arm and get the son of
a bitch to stop hurting. It wasnt so bad now that he had just gotten
off, but it still throbbed.

Tyrone still looked at the odometer, announcing how
much closer they were to Miami, when all of a sudden it dawned on him
how far away they were from New York. They dropped some more uppers
and drank more coffee, and thought about the distance between them
and home. They had driven all night and they realized they couldnt
just jump on the subway or grab a cab and get to where they wanted to
go. However they may have felt when they left they were now
committed, they had passed the point of no return.