Play It as It Lays

by Joan Didion

Carter took her to BZ and Helene’s one night when BZ was running the picture and she had to leave the house after the titles, had to sit outside on the beach smoking cigarettes and fighting nausea for seventy-two of the seventy-four minutes. “Why does he run it so often,” she had said to Carter later. “Why do you let him keep a print out there, he keeps a print in the house.” “He owns it, Maria. He owns all the prints.” “That’s not what I mean. I said why does he run it so often.” “He wants Helene to see it.” “Helene’s seen it a dozen times. Helene doesn’t even like it, she told me so.” “You don’t understand anything,” Carter had said finally, and they had gone to bed that night without speaking. Maria did not want to understand why BZ ran that first picture so often or what it had to do with Helene. The girl on the screen in that first picture had no knack for anything.

!!!!!! Make them all the manic dream