Requiem for a Dream (8 page)

Sara continued to stare in the mirror, blinking.
Thats red? Ada shrugged, Well its not exactly red but its almost,
maybe, in the same family. The same family? Theyre not even distant
cousins already. Well, maybe a poor relation. Not even welfare. How
poor is poor? How poor is poor? How high is up? Its a red. Not a red
red, but a red. Red? Youre telling me this is a red? Yeah. Im
telling. Its a red. Youre saying a red? Yeah. Im saying. Then whats
orange? If this is red I want to know whats orange? I want to see an
orange thats not even a poor relation of this. Ada looked at Saras
hair, then her reflection, her hair, reflection, then pursed her lips
and shrugged, Well, it could be a little orange too. A little orange?
Ada kept nodding as she stared in the mirror at Saras reflection,
Yeah, it looks like it could be, maybe, a little orange. A little
orange? Its a little orange like being a little bit pregnant. Ada
shrugged again. So whats to worry? Itll be alright. Whats to worry?
Someone may try to juice me. Relax, relax, dolly. It just needs a
little more dye. Itll be alright for the television. I look like a
thermometer. Thats what I look like. Like an upside down thermometer.
So dont blow your top. Relax. We'll have some smoked fish and bialy.
Come, come, sit down. Ada led Sara away from the mirror and sat her
down at the table. I'll get you a glass tea and youll feel better.
Ada put the water on and got the fish out of the refrigerator and the
bialy from the bread box, and the plates and utensils. All day long
Im getting my scalp scraped, and burned and smelling like dead fish
and I look like a basketball. You should learn to relax. Thats your
trouble, you dont know how to relax already. Im telling you its
alright. Tomorro we'll do it again and youll look like Lucille Ball.
Here, have a piece of smoked fish and bialy.
 

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.