Requiem for a Dream by Hubert Selby Jr. Read Free Book Online Page B

hash right through the pipe. Look see if he dont have a hole
in the back of his haid, all that air gotta be goin somewheres. Fred
finally took the hose from his mouth and passed it to Tyrone, a
broad, dumb smile on his face, and still holding his breath he
grunted, Dont get greedy baby. Tyrone started laughing, clutching the
hose in both hands, and the others started giggling, and Tyrone
looked down at the floor and shook his head then looked up and at
Fred who still had a big shit eatin grin on his face and Tyrone
started laughing harder and harder and the others started laughing
and shaking their heads, unavoidably drawn to looking at Fred sitting
there with that dumb grin that kept getting larger and dumber and now
a momentum had been built up and no matter how hard they tried they
could not stop laughing and Fred continued to hold his breath
although he felt like he was suffocating and his face was flushing
more and more and his eyes were bulging and Tyrone kept pointing at
him and shaking his head and laughing and sputtering, Shee . . . Shee
. . . and finally Fred blurted the air out and quickly sucked in some
more and shook his head back and forth, Gahddamn, and the others
laughed uncontrollably and Tony took another hit on his pipe and
frowned at the television set as the story was interrupted for a
commercial, and then a few more, and then a station break and then a
few more commercials and Tony took another hit and fidgeted in his
chair and started grumbling under his breath about the goddamn
bullshit, he wanted to see the goddamn show not some bullshit dog
eatin horse meat, and then he started yelling at the set, Go ahead ya
fuckin hound, stick ya nose up her drawers. Whats the matta, donta ya
like fish? Eh? Ya don't like fish ya faggot dog bastard. The others
had stopped laughing, and were finished smoking the hash for a while,
and were just leaning back and listening to the music and rapping and
then they started to half watch and listen to Tony and the giggles
started again. Hey baby, yawl shouldnt talk about faggots like that
when Harrys aroun, he get his feelings hurt. Fred stuck that dumb
countryboy grin on his face, How you know hes a faggot. Maybe its
just a bulldike, and he suddenly started to fall apart laughing,
damn, that tickles the shit outta me, hahahahahaha, a bulldog,
bulldike, hahahahaha, damn, hahaha; and Tony was still grumbling
incomprehensibly and the others were giggling and laughing as they
watched Fred laughing and shaking his head and whenever his laughter
started to subside he'd start blithering about bulldog, bulldikes and
everybody started giggling again and Tony got up, his water pipe
hanging from his neck, and went to the dresser and took something out
of a drawer and plopped back into his chair and disappeared from
sight behind the enveloping wings and put a fresh piece of hash in
the bowl and lit it and took a couple of long pokes, as the show came
back on, then settled back and silently and motionlessly watched the
show. Fred finally exhausted himself and was incapable of any more
laughter although he continued to shake his head and grin and the
others avoided looking at him because when they did they started
laughing and everyone had pains in their sides from laughing and so
looked everywhere except at Fred, and Harry and Marion drifted away
from the others and were sprawled on a few old cushions and half
leaning against a wall, half listening to the music and directing
most of their attention toward each other. You living alone now or do
you have a roomie? No, Im alone. You know that. Harry shrugged, Hey,
how do I know? The last time I remember bein at your pad you had a
roomie, right? My God, that's months ago. Wow, is it that long ago?
Tempus really fugits, eh? Sometimes. Sometimes it seems to stand
still. Like youre in a bag and you cant get out and somebodys always
telling you that it will get better with time and time just seems to
stand still and laugh at you and your pain. .