A week later they still couldnt score for any uncut weight so they tried again to stop using, but this time they were back in the spoon before they were dressed. They awoke earlier than usual with panic roiling their stomachs, their eyes burning and their noses running, and the magic of the dope healed all their ills immediately. It wasnt that they couldnt stop using, it was just that this wasnt the time. They had too much to do and they werent feeling well. When everything was straightened out they would simply cut the whole scene loose, but for now theyd take an occasional taste to hang loose.
Sara finally developed a morning schedule that enabled her to accomplish a few very necessary things. She took her purple, red and orange pills at once, drank a pot of coffee, then tried on the red dress and golden shoes and spun around in front of the mirror looking so zophtic and feeling so good and trying to force from her mind how she would be feeling by noon. She kept the dress on and sat in her viewing chair and watched the shows, no longer spinning the selector, but watching the entire show. She saw the announcer, the audience, the prizes, and heard the laughter and applause, then forced herself, with much effort, to cross the stage to where the announcer was waiting, a big smile on his face, and listened to the applause, but now she couldnt control herself and she left the screen and came into the room and walked around the apartment, looking at the old, old furnishings, the lack of light and life, then tried to get back into the set but couldnt quite make it and eventually seemed to disappear somewhere, Sara wasnt quite sure where, maybe in the back of the set or under the bed, someplace. It puzzled Sara. She looked all over the house, but couldnt find the little red riding hood. The next time she paid closer attention to where she went and asked her what she was doing and where she was going, but she just looked up at her and tossed her head and shrugged her shoulders and gave her a So who are you? look and went her merry way and again disappeared. For days she was stepping right out of the set and walking around. She didnt jump down to the floor, but just sort of stepped out of the screen and was on the floor and very obviously and noisily ignored Sara as she roamed around looking down her nose at the apartment, occasionally looking over at Sara disapprovingly and gave a huff and a humf, and continued on her way inspecting everything and finding fault with everything and giving Sara that look of looking down while looking up. Finally Sara got upset and angry and stared right back at her, Who are you to be telling me? Who do you think you are? and Sara turned her nose up at her, and when she lowered her gaze she had disappeared. For many mornings the same thing until one morning the announcer left the set too, and little red riding hood led him around the apartment showing him this and that, the both of them shaking their heads with overwhelming disapproval, then looking up at Sara, shaking their heads again, then back at the spot of inspection, back to Sara, another shake of the head and off to another area to continue the inspection and the disapproving glances and shakes. For three mornings it happened and each time Sara felt worse as she watched them look at the shabbiness of her apartment, What do you expect? You could do better all alone? Its an old building. Ten years no painting, maybe more. Im old. Alone. You do it. Im trying, Im trying, and Sara could feel a hot twisting in her gut and a wave of nausea clutch her throat, Please… please. I/ll explain. But they didnt stay to listen but went right back into the set and waved at the audience and then hundreds of people followed them out of the set and around the drabneses of her tiny apartment and the television followed with their cameras and other equipment, the thick cables stretched across the floor and Sara could see herself sitting in her viewing chair looking at the set surrounded by the lifeless gloom of her apartment and it seemed to be getting smaller and smaller as she watched it on the screen and felt it happening around her and she was feeling a sensation of being crushed, not by the walls, but by her shame and despair. She didnt know what they were finding and seeing, but she knew it was bad… o so very bad. She should have looked before they got here. What was there? She was cleaning the other day. No? She wasnt sure. She changed the channel, but the picture was the same. Every channel, again and again, the picture the same. Millions of people were watching her stand in front of her set trying to change the channel, to change the picture, and she felt something crawling within her. Everybody knew her shame. Everybody. Millions. Millions of people were already knowing, but she didnt know. The tears whirled around in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. She didnt even know. She only knew that they knew and that she was overwhelmed with shame and despair. And now she could see the little lady in red and the announcer leading the people around her dingy little apartment, on the screen she could see them and they were looking out at her with expressions of disgust. Sara clung to the television set trying to hide the screen and slowly, ever so painfully slow, she folded into herself until she was kneeling in front of the set and leaning against it, her head hanging low, her tears staining her red dress that she wore at her Harrys bar mitzvah, curling into a ball as the screen filled with people looking down on her disapprovingly and she hugged herself as a huge wave rolled from her stomach up to her throat and she felt herself drowning in her tears, O please, please… let me on the show… please… please…
Brody got burned. Snuffed. Tyrone couldnt find out exactly what happened—he asked a half dozen people and got a half dozen answers—but how it happened was unimportant, the fact that he was cold stone dead was. He was found in an alley either shot, stabbed, shoved off a roof, or by what they call misadventure. His pockets were empty so it was obvious he was done in. Whenever he was out of the pad he was either holding or had the bread to cop. Tyrone listened to the stories and boolshit for a while then split. All the way back to the pad he bugged himself about not having a good backup connection. They had looked around half assed, but Brody was getting such dynamite shit they knew they couldnt do better if they went to France. Then when he ran out they just couldnt seem to get around to looking for somebody else, being convinced that the dynamite would be back soon, that if there was anything good in town that Brody would sniff it out. Now they were fucked… s.o.l., just plain shit out of luck. Jesus krist man, thats a fuckin drag. Getting himself fuckin killed an leavin us high and dry like this. It just dont figure. Not Brody. Not after all these years. Well baby, seem like we gotta do somethin. Caint just sit aroun here. Yeah. Thats no fuckin lie. Shit! What a lousy fuckin break! Just my fuckin luck! Hey mah man, cool it. Aint gonna do no good sittin aroun here nose wipin our selves. Yeah, yeah, I know man. It just gripes my shit is all. Well it dont make me feel like doin no tip toe through the mutha fuckin tulips jim, but we gotta get our little asses out there an see what we cain do. Harry finally chuckled slightly, Yeah, I/ll go to the front of the bus an youll go to the back. Yeaahhh, ah always did like mah business in black and white. Sheeit, we/ll latch on to somethin baby. We jus be cool an somethin will break.
Sara had to go to the store. For days she had to go, but couldnt move. Couldnt get out of the house. She didnt get the sun. If there was a sun. Maybe its cloudy outside too. Inside its like night. Maybe worse. Night, you put on the light and its cheerful. Now its gray. Gray. She had to get to the store. For days she had to go. If Ada would come. Maybe then? Maybe she should call? Ada would take her. She/d ask her why she cant go? What could she say? She didnt know. Its just the store. Yes. Just the store. But she couldnt go. She knew it was wrong not to go. Something bad. She could feel inside it was bad. Crawly. How could— LOOK OUT!!!! no no no no ahhhh. hh—How could she tell her? Whats to say? Whats to say???? She had to go. For days now. No toilet paper. No sugar. Now its all gone. Now she had to go. She had to get out. Just get up and walk across the room. That’s all. Up and out the door. Little red riding hood. Ipsy pip—LOOK OUT! Nothing. Nowhere. Nothing. She was going. The refrigerator was changing shape. It was nearer. With a huge mouth. Closer… She got up. Her pocketbook. Where? Where? She found it. She clutched it with both hands. She was moving toward the door. The refrigerator moved. Closer. Out of shape. Almost all mouth. Her gold shoes clicked on the kitchen floor. The red dress was wrinkled. She yanked at the door. The refrigerator got closer. The television was bigger. The screen got bigger and bigger. She yanked at the knob. People came out of the set. The door opened. She banged it behind her. She wobbled on her gold shoes. The high heels clicked on the tile. The breeze was a little cool. It was gray here too. Nobody by the house. She walked down the street. Swaying. Wavering. Holding on to the wall. She reached the corner. Stopped. The traffic. Traffic! TRAFFIC!!!! Cars. Trucks. Buses. People. Noise. Movements. Whirls. She was dizzy. She clung to the light post. Desperately. She couldnt move. The light turned green. She clung. Knuckles white. The light continued to click from green to yellow. To red. To green. Over and over. Many times. Many, many times. The people passed. Some looked. Shrugged. Continued. Sara clung. She looked across the street. Up and down. Waiting for the light. Safe to cross. She tried. She stopped looking. Hid face in pole. Hung on. Hung on. The noises blurred. Flashes of light stabbed her closed lids. She hung on. The pole was cold. She could feel the clicking in the pole. She hung on… So whats happening? Ada and Rae looked at her. Youre holding up the pole? Sara slowly moved her head. She looked at them. Sara, youre not looking so good. Sara just stared at them. They looked at each other for a moment, then each grabbed an arm and helped Sara to Adas apartment. Sara trembled slightly and they gave her a glass tea and Sara sat mutely sad gripping her glass with both hands, occasionally lowering her face to it and sipping the tea as she stared dully in front of her. I thought you were just a antsy pants, but now Im wondering. Ada and Rae smiled and chuckled and Sara started to respond, To just be antsy pantsy would be a pleasure. Maybe you got already a virus. Why dont you go to see your doctor? He can give you a anti something. My appointment isnt for two days. For two days? Whats the matter, you get sick by appointment? Whats he going to say? stay well now and get sick in two days? They all chuckled and Sara frowned inwardly because she hadnt thought of going to the doctor. She puzzled it for a second, then let it go away to some place and listened to the chuckles, felt herself chuckling, and sipped the tea until the glass was empty.