On Gatsby’s Death: A Summer Short Story
Inspired by Fitzgerald, Hopper & Gaddis; Plus, a Contest with a Prize - 1300
- Sorry I’m late Pru, we were down in Philadelphia for a family event and just got back this morning. The Inquirer had a front-page story about the awful news, God, will he ever be missed!
- Well Lindy, I just don’t know who’s going to replace him. You know there’s not a fellow in the group that will be as much fun. He had a joie de vivre about him; nothing really mattered, except that we should all have a good time.
- I was just over at the mansion last Saturday afternoon for the tennis match. Tilden was playing some Frenchman that everyone called The Crocodile, though I don’t know why he got that name as he was ever so handsome. I couldn’t stay on for the party that evening as Joe and I had theater tickets. He didn’t want to give them up and of course he never liked Gatsby’s crowd. If I had my druthers, I would have been back out to the Island in a snap.
- You were probably better off missing it. There was the most terrible row, and I think it had something to do with his death.
- What happened?
- It was all the fault of that blonde-bobbed little bitch.
- Daisy?
- That’s right, Daisy Buchannan, that little trollop! There is something about her pouty red lips that drives men crazy. Well, Jay knew about this of course, but he still fell for her. I don’t think there’s a man around here who can resist her charms.
- Well Pru, everyone in our group knows this. She tried settling down with Tom, but it didn’t work out. Of course you remember that weekend she went to visit him up at school. She ended up having a fling with his roommate while Tom was playing in the big game. Underneath the stands of the football stadium no less.
- Anyway, Daisy came late to the party, it was close to midnight when she showed up at the door. I tell you she was so drunk that it was a chore for her to even stand on her own two feet. She was with that new fellow, Teddy Wilson.
- Oh my, you know he is from Louisville money, something to do with horses. He’s such a dreamboat. Whatever would he see in her?
- The same thing that all the other men do. You know what they are like. As she came further into the room, I could see that she was really in bad shape. Her dress was hanging off one shoulder and one of her stockings was torn. Her lipstick was smudged, and she was flushed. Jordan tried to hold her back, but she pulled away. She marched straight up to Gatsby and started in on him, asking why she wasn’t good enough for him. He tried to calm her down, but it didn’t work. When he tried taking her arm to escort her out, she let him have it, a slap across the face! The sound echoed through the room, silencing everyone.
- Are you serious Pru, she hit him in front of all those people?
- That wasn’t the worst of it. She then ripped the top of her dress open; popping off a couple of buttons that skittered across the floor. She got this crazed look on her face, and standing not more than a couple of feet from him, accused Gatsby of all people, of being a phony. It was truly scandalous. Something about a group of bootleggers in Michigan. I think it must have been the alcohol; she certainly wasn’t making any sense at all.
- The nerve of her!
- Were that only the end of the story! She turned to Teddy and said that he had really been swell that evening and then turned back to Gatsby and told him in no uncertain terms that he was never man enough for her. I think her exact words were, ‘you’re just a lot of promise but no reward!’
- You can’t be serious. That’s what she said?
- Yes, her very words. As you might imagine that brought the party to a swift conclusion. Gatsby grew quite pale and told the band that they were excused for the evening. He thanked us all for coming, saying he was suddenly very tired. The last I saw of Daisy; she was getting into Jordan’s car.
- Terrible, just terrible.
- Yes, I know, then to hear that he died. Lindy, I don’t know about you but I’m suddenly not hungry anymore. Let’s go across the street and get something to drink. There’s a basement bar they haven’t shut down yet. I could use a martini right about now.
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