Harry and Marion slept in each others arms on the couch. The music was still playing and the light from the lamp in the corner blended with the sunlight that eased through the drawn shades. There was a stillness in the room that somehow ignored the noise of the Bronx streets, cluttered with people and vehicles grumbling, yelling and rumbling. Their skin was moist from the hot, humid air yet they slept undisturbed and restful. The apartment, and everything in it, seemed isolated and insulated from its surroundings, and reflected the attitude of the sleepers. Occasionally a truck would rattle windows and shake floors and walls, but the sound was muted by the stillness of the air; and, from time to time, something would disturb the air and the dust motes that floated in the diffused sunlight danced as the air gentled by in caressing waves. The summer sun continued to rise in the sky and propel shocks of heat down on the city and the heavy moisture moistened bodies and clothing, and people fanned and wiped at sweating faces trying to survive another bitch of a day as Harry and Marion peacefully passed the day sleeping in each others arms oblivious to the reality surrounding them.
Sara checked the mailbox after a hearty lunch in which she had some extra lettuce. Well, actually you couldn’t call it cheating because it was only half a cup of lettuce… Well, it really depends on how you measure: loose or tight. If youre just putting a little lettuce in the measuring cup theres already more air than lettuce. All Sara did was push out the air between the pieces of lettuce… very hard, and got almost a half a head in half a cup. So whats the big deal? Youre not needing a toothpick no matter how much lettuce you eat. She drank two glasses of water, rapidly, then tried to convince herself that she was filled, but who you kidding? Nobody believes a story like that. Im not full, Im starving. She rechecked the book again and it assured her that after the first day or two (two! you got to be kidding!!!) you will be feeding off your own fat and wont be hungry. Im waiting. The book also suggested that she visualize herself at her perfect weight and concentrate on that to avoid thinking of any hunger she may have (may have? Whos kidding who?!) and she did and again she saw herself in her gorgeous red dress and red hair with golden shoes looking so zophtic as she walked across the television screen, but even at a perfect weight and looking so ipsy pipsy nifty she was still hungry. Im not hungry because Im thin and beautiful? I dont eat just because Im so gorgeous? She looked at the book, Eh, you should plotz already? She didnt bother with her coffee but went out to the mailbox. Still no mail yet. She went back to the apartment and stood in the middle of the kitchen staring at the refrigerator and could feel herself leaning forward slowly, but continuously, and she became fascinated and hypnotized by the action and wondered how far forward she could lean before she fell flat on her face and she leaned further and further until she suddenly put her arms out and stopped herself from falling by pushing on the refrigerator. This I dont need. She turned her back on the refrigerator and walked sideways past it into the bathroom. She fluffed her hair and looked at it carefuly. Still not the red she wanted, but red it is. Sort of carrot, but a red. Definitely its part of the family. Tomorrow she/ll get another treatment and maybe then its perfect, but for now its alright. Maybe she/ll go out and get a little sun while she waits for the mailman. Theyll all want to see how gorgeous her new hair is. She stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and turned her back and tossed her head at the refrigerator, So whats the big deal, and picked up her folding chair and went ipsy pipsy out to the street, checking the mailbox first. She joined the others sitting alongside the building, getting the sun. A few had reflectors that they held under their chins as they stared up at the sun. Sara could feel how her hair glimmered in the sun and shook her head a little as she waited for the first comment. Ada told us. Its gorgeous. Thank you. We/re making it a little darker tomorrow. To match the red dress. So why darker? Now its looking like Lucille Ball. But Im not. But soon… Im on a diet. One of the ladies lowered her reflector for a moment, Cottage cheese and lettuce, then raised the reflector again. The women continued to keep their eyes closed and their faces stretched toward the sun as they talked. What diet you on? Eggs and grapefruit. Oi vay. I was on once. Lots of luck dolly. Its not so bad. How long you been on already? All day. All day? Its one oclock. All days forever? So? All day is still all day. Im thinking thin. My Rosie lost fifty pounds like that almost. Like that? Like what? Like that, that. Poof. You put her in a sweat box? A doctor. He gave her pills. It makes you not want to eat. So whats so good about that? Who wants not to want to eat? You mean Im sitting here not thinking about chopped liver and pastrami on rye? With a slice of onion and mustard. Herring. Herring? Yeah, herring. In sour cream. With matzoh. A nosh. When the sun goes behind that building Im having a nosh, she squinted at the sun, maybe another twenty minutes. You shouldnt talk like that already when someones on a diet. Eh, big deal. I/ll sneak an extra piece of lettuce. Im thinking thin. The women continued to sit on the chairs, pushed up against the building wall, faces thrust at the sun, and talking until the mailman came. Sara picked up her chair and followed him into the building. Ada and the other ladies followed. Goldfarb. Goldfarb. I know you have a big important mail for Goldfarb. Well, ah dont know. Aint much of anythin here but a couple a things, and he continued to put mail in the boxes, aint much aroun here cept on the beginnin a the onth wit them social security checks. But Im expecting something— Here somethin for Goldfarb, Sara Goldfarb, and he handed Sara a thick envelope. So lets see. Open it, open it. Sara carefully opened the envelope, not wanting to injure anything on the inside, and took out a form letter and a two part questionnaire with a return envelope clipped to them. So whats the show? The mailman closed the boxes then worked his way around the knot of women around Sara, So long, have a nice day now, you hear? and whistled his way out of the building. The women nodded and automatically said a goodbye or two, then leaned, intently, toward Sara. It doesnt say what show. What? How can you know if theyre not telling you? They decide after you send them this form. So why a big mystery already? Ada took the letter from Sara, and Sara pointed to the paragraph, See? Ada nodded her tead as she read, “… as the promotional agency for several of the shows on television utilizing contestants, as well as proposed shows, we want to take this opportunity…” A lot of words to say nothing. Its like the soap opera, tune in tomorrow for the next chapter. They chuckled and went back to the chairs to get the last bit of sun before it went behind the building. Sara shrugged and went back to her apartment to puzzle over the questionnaire. She flipped on the television md sat in her viewing seat and read the questionnaire several times before going into the kitchen. She turned her back on the refrigerator and made a glass of tea, then sat down at the kitchen table to complete the form. Actually, Sara had not filled in too many forms in her life, but whenever she was faced with the ordeal they always seemed impossible at first. This one was the same. She just sat, with her back to the refrigerator, and sipped her tea for a moment knowing that soon it would start to make sense. She looked at the form out of the corner of her eye then slowly slid it across the table until it was right in front of her so it was almost touching her nose. So, big deal. A piece of papers going to bug me? Ask me? Go ahead Mr. Smartypants, ask me a question? Uh. You call that a question? That kind I take six at once. She started to fill in the form, carefully printing each letter. Her name. Address. Telephone number. Social security number. Huh, like a breeze, and she glided from one question to the next, then stopped abruptly. So now youre getting personal? Does Macys tell Gimbels? She squinted at the form out of the corner of her eye and sipped her tea. Okay, you want to know so I/ll tell you, and she quickly put down a few numbers after: Date of Birth. The next question was: Age. So now they want me to count for them. An Einstein Im not, but I can figure that. She looked at the next question and smiled then chuckled and shrugged before answering it. Marital Status: wanting, needing. Maybe theyre sending me Robert Redford… or maybe even Mickey Rooney. Sex: So why not? She giggled and continued talking to the form, putting in the answers carefully and clearly. When she finished, she reread it several times making certain that every answer was exactly right and that nothing had been overlooked. She couldnt be sloppy or lazy with something as important as this. How many dreams could come true through this form? Where can it lead? Every day on the television she saw things suddenly work out for people. People get married. Sons come home. Everybody is happy. She sat with her eyes closed for a moment then ever so gently folded the form, in its original creases, and put it in the selfaddressed envelope, sealed it pressing hard for many long seconds on the flap, then putting it on the chair and sitting on it for extra insurance. If that doesnt seal it then it doesnt have to be sealed. She tossed her head and shoulders at the refrigerator, Who needs you? and left to mail the form. A few of the ladies were sitting in the shade. Sara waved the envelope, Its ready to go on its way. They walked with her to the mailbox on the corner. I wonder when youll hear? Maybe theyll send you for a week to Grossingers, thats where they send all the stars. Im eating eggs and grapefruit at Grossingers? The ladies smiled and chuckled as they walked down the street. Their own friend, Sara Goldfarb, for twenty years, for some more, their friend and she was going to be on the television. Theres sorrow and pain in everyones life, but every now and then theres a ray of light that melts the loneliness in your heart and brings comfort like hot soup and a soft bed. That ray of light was shining already on their friend Sara Goldfarb and they were partaking of the light too and sharing her hope and dream. Sara pulled down the panel on the mailbox and kissed the envelope before dropping it in. She closed it then opened it again to make sure it had dropped down into the box, and entrusted her dream to the United States Postal Service.