From c4d59061ab35e542948a43004cd38d472cbd57c1 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Holden Rohrer Date: Thu, 13 Feb 2020 18:15:47 -0500 Subject: wrote a "hidden scene" from the Great Gatsby --- jones-la/gatsby-proj.tex | 68 ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 1 file changed, 68 insertions(+) create mode 100644 jones-la/gatsby-proj.tex (limited to 'jones-la') diff --git a/jones-la/gatsby-proj.tex b/jones-la/gatsby-proj.tex new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0e83781 --- /dev/null +++ b/jones-la/gatsby-proj.tex @@ -0,0 +1,68 @@ +%% Writing an implied scene from the Great Gatsby +\font\twelverm=cmr10 at 12pt +\font\twelvett=cmtt10 at 12pt +\font\twelvebf=cmb10 at 12pt +\twelverm\let\tt\twelvett\let\bf\twelvebf +\centerline{\bf Rough Draft: Gatsby and Wolfsheiem's Business Arrangement} +\baselineskip=24 pt +\nopagenumbers + +``Let's get moving, old sport.'' + +Gatsby and Wolfsheim shuffled through the back door of the Metropole, having left a decent sum on the tabletop. +Wolfsheim hopped in the driver's seat of his black Model A and bade Gatsby towards a grey automobile %choose a car +with a collection of street names scribbled on what would be the inside of an antique wine from 1912. +The window rolled up and the Ford chugged away into the New York City grid. + +Gatsby---sitting on the cold, leathery seat---interrogated the directions received, which read: +\bigskip\line{ + \tt\hfil + \vbox{\halign{&#\cr + Head to the Grand Concourse\cr + Turn at 203rd Street towards Jerome Park\cr + Park at 234 East\cr + Walk through the second alley to the right\cr + Stop at Fabrizio's Drug Store\cr + }} + \hfil +}\medskip +In front of a young store attendant lay a hidden counter with a number of hand-filled glass vials of alcohol interspersed and disguised in medicinal containers and a glass door with a ringing bell that commenced its small song immediately as a pair of men marched through the sparely open doorway. + +``Hand me of them beverajs,'' Wolfsheim demanded the clerk. + +``I'm not sure what you're talking about. We don't sell beverages here; you can grab some cough syrup or head down the street to Wesley's for a pop.'' + +``I know you've got stuff behind there, so just hand it over.'' + +The clerk glanced out towards the street and made an attempt at a subtle nod towards the partially silvered windows. He leaned in and almost but not quite whispered, ``you oughtta block the windows lest a copper peers in.'' + +Gatsby was already working on twisting the blinds partially shut---enough to make an onlooker's job difficult but insufficient to arise suspicion. +After an unbearably long pause, a mangled hand scraped the shiny deadbolt as a ``Closed'' sign spun around and reported to the outside world that they were no longer permitted inside. + +A servile hand obsequiently and delicately unpacked and passed one of the slightly brown-tarnished vials over the counter. + +Wolfsheim gripped it heartily and, responding to a smiling nod from Gatsby, gulped down half of the dense, clear mixture. + +``Would you like some?'' + +``No, thank you.'' + +Wolfsheim gave a nondescript shrug, drank the remainder, and set an emptied bottle on the counter, but he still looked wanting. + +He grunted towards the register, ``Ya got much?'' + +The clerk reached into the register and peeled out a number of tattered and dimly green five and ten dollar bills, amassing an meagre pile in Wolfsheim's outstretched hand. +The clerk apprehended from the disappointed expression that Wolfsheim thought the amount he had been handed was insufficient and began to search the near-empty drawers for any speck of green left in the desolate grey. + +He gave up his search after a short amount of time, which was treated with Wolfsheim's critical, ``That's really all you have?'' + +The clerk let out a meek ``I think so,'' and attempted to search for a remedy to the issue, availing nothing. + +Gatsby shook the clerk's hand, ``Thanks, old sport,'' as Wolfsheim turned towards the back exit so he could get into yet another car. + +After the back door had shut, Gatsby showed off a small book's worth of folded dollars and grimaced, ``I guess he thought we might not want these.'' + +Wolfsheim took the money and muttered something about how everyone thinks they can be a con artist. + +They soon parted, Wolfsheim taking the cash and Gatsby taking the Ford. +\bye -- cgit