CHAPTER SEVEN

An Afternoon Together

One Saturday night the lights in Gatsby's house did not turn on. Many cars drove up his road, expecting a party, but they all turned around after a minute and drove sadly away.

I was worried that he was sick and went over to see him.

His door was opened by a new helper with an ugly face; he gave me a strange look.

"Is Mr Gatsby sick?" I asked.

"No." He said, then after a moment added "sir" in an unhappy way.

I hadn't seen Gatsby for many days, and I was quite worried. "Please, tell him Mr Carraway came over."

"Who?" he asked rudely.

"Mr Carraway."

"Carraway. Fine, I'll tell him." He loudly shut the door.

I was later told that Gatsby had changed every servant in his house a week before, and had replaced them with half a dozen new ones. These new ones never went into West Egg village, but used the telephone to buy food and other things. Many people in the village thought that the new people weren't even servants.

Gatsby called me on the phone the very next day.

"Are you going away?" I asked.

"No, young fellow."

"I hear you changed your servants."

"I wanted people who wouldn't talk." Gatsby said. "Daisy comes over often. These helpers are all people that Wolfshiem wanted to help. They used to run a small hotel together. They're all sisters and brothers."

"I see."

Gatsby called me because Daisy had asked him to. She wanted me to come over to her house for lunch tomorrow. Jordan would be there too. Later that day Daisy also telephoned me herself. She was worried on the phone, but she became calmer when I said that I would come. Something was definitely wrong.

It was extremely hot the next day, the hottest day of the whole summer. Gatsby drove me to the Buchanans' house.

Their living room was hidden from the sunlight; it was dark and cool. Daisy and Jordan were lying on the big sofa.

"It's too hot, we can't move," they said together.

Jordan's fingers rested for a moment in my hand.

Gatsby stood in the center of the room and looked around. Daisy watched him and laughed her warm, exciting laugh.

"Where is Mr Thomas Buchanan, the polo player?" I joked. Then I heard his voice talking on the telephone.

"He is probably talking with his girlfriend," said Jordan.

We all listened silently. Tom's voice became high with anger, "Okay, fine, I won't sell you the car then ... and don't ask me about it at lunch time!"

Tom loudly threw open the door and came into the room.

"Mr Gatsby!" He shook Gatsby's hand, hiding his hate for him. "I'm happy to see you, sir ... happy to see you too, Nick ... "

"Make us cold drinks," cried Daisy.

When Tom left the room, Daisy stood up and went over to Gatsby and kissed him on the mouth.

"I love you," she whispered.

At that moment the nurse came into the room. She was leading a little girl in a pretty white dress.

"My loved one!" cried Daisy. "Come here to your mother!"

The child hurried across the room to Daisy and hid her face in her mother's skirt.

"Lovely child! Come shake hands."

Gatsby and I both sat down on one knee and shook the small girl's hand. Gatsby looked at the child with surprise. I didn't think he had really believed in her existence before.

"She doesn't look like Tom," said Daisy. "She looks just like me. She has my hair and eyes." Daisy bent her face down to the child. "You're my little dream!"

Then she again sat back on the sofa.

"Goodbye, love!" she then said. "Go back to your room."

The nurse grasped the child's hand and pulled her out of the room, the child looked like she missed her mother.

Tom came back with the cold drinks.

"Come with me outside," Tom suggested to Gatsby, "I want you to see our place."

I joined them outside. The ocean was dark green and silent in the hot weather. Gatsby pointed across the water.

"My house is right across from you."

We had lunch in the dining room; it was also hidden from the heat. Everyone talked nervously.

"What should we do this afternoon?" cried Daisy, "and tomorrow, and for the next thirty years?"

"Don't worry," said Jordan. "Life will start again when the weather turns cool in the fall."

"But it's so hot," said Daisy, almost crying, "and life is so boring. Let's all go to the city!"

Tom and Gatsby were talking about horses.

"Who wants to go to the city?" demanded Daisy. Gatsby looked towards her. She looked back and cried, "You look so cool!"

Their eyes stared at each other, alone in the universe. Then Daisy quickly looked down at the floor.

"You always look so cool," she said again. It was her way of saying that she loved him, and Tom Buchanan understood. He was shocked. His mouth opened a little bit, and he stared at Gatsby, and then at Daisy.

"You look like the actor in that famous movie," she then said. "You know, the movie where—"

"All right," Tom quickly interrupted, "I'm willing to go to the city. Yes, we're all going to the city.

Tom stood up, his eyes still staring at Gatsby and his wife. No one else moved.

"Let's go!" The anger in his voice was increasing. "What's the problem? If you want to go to the city, let's go now."

"Are we just going to go now?" Daisy asked, "Shouldn't we let everyone smoke a cigarette first?"

"Everybody smoked during lunch."

"Fine," she said. "Come on, Jordan."

They went upstairs to change clothes.

"Should we take anything to drink?" yelled Daisy from upstairs.

"I'll get some wine," answered Tom. He went to the kitchen.

Gatsby turned to me.

"I can't say anything in his house, young fellow."

"Daisy's voice tells Tom her feelings for you," I said. "Her voice is full of—I paused.

"Her voice is full of money," Gatsby said suddenly.

Yes! He was right! She had the voice of a rich girl, a princess—that was its magic power.

Tom came back holding a bottle in a towel, followed by Daisy and Jordan.

"Shall we all go together in my car?" suggested Gatsby.

"No, you drive mine," said Tom, "and let me drive yours."

Gatsby did not like this idea.

"I don't think there's much gas in my car," he said.

"I will stop at the store," said Tom. He looked at Gatsby with a strange look in his eyes.

A very strange smile appeared on Gatsby's face. "Okay, you take my car."

"Let's go, Daisy," said Tom. He pulled her towards Gatsby's car, but she moved away from him.

"You take Nick and Jordan," she said. "I'll go in your car."

She walked close to Gatsby. Jordan, Tom and I got into Gatsby's car, and drove off.

"Did you see that?" demanded Tom.

"See what?"

He stared at me angrily. He realized that Jordan and I had known about Daisy and Gatsby for a long time. Tom was not a good man, but he was not a stupid man either.

"I've learned many things about this Gatsby," said Tom. "I've asked some people about his history."

"And you learned that he was an Oxford student," said Jordan.

"An Oxford student! It's not possible!"

"Why did you invite him for lunch, then, if you don't like him?" demanded Jordan.

"I didn't! Daisy invited him; she said that she knew him before we were married—who knows where!"

For a while we drove in angry silence. Then when I saw the dirty sign with Doctor T. J. Eckleburg's eyes on it, I remembered that Gatsby said the car didn't have much gasoline.

"We have enough gasoline to get us to the city," said Tom.

"But there's a garage right here," said Jordan.

Tom stopped the car at Wilson's sign. Wilson came outside and stared at the car unhappily.

"Hurry!" yelled Tom roughly. "Why do you think we stopped—to watch the view?"

"I've been sick all day," said Wilson, not moving.

"Shall I get my own gasoline?" Tom demanded. "You didn't sound sick on the phone."

Wilson walked slowly toward the car and began to fill it with gasoline. His face looked green in the sun.

"I'm sorry that I called you on the phone and interrupted your lunch before," Wilson said. "But I need some money quickly, and I wanted to know when you were going to sell your old car."

"Do you like this one?" asked Tom. "I just bought it."

"It's a fancy car," said Wilson. "But I could really make some money on your other one."

"Why do you want money so quickly; before you said your money was okay?"

"I've been living here too long. My wife and I want to leave New York and go to the West."

"Your wife wants to leave?" cried Tom.

"She's wanted to leave for ten years. And now she's moving if she wants to or not. I've just learned that something very strange is happening. I'm going to take her far away. That's why I need money now."

"How much for the gas?" demanded Tom roughly.

"Two dollars."

I realized that Wilson still didn't realize that Tom was sleeping with his wife secretly. Wilson had discovered that his wife had a secret life away in a different world, and the shock had made him become ill.

"I'll sell you my old car," said Tom. "Tomorrow."

I then realized that in one of the windows over the garage Mrs Wilson was staring down at the car. Her eyes were full of jealous anger. She was staring at Jordan Baker, whom she must have thought was Tom's wife.

Tom drove quickly towards New York. The fear and doubt in his simple mind were clear. An hour before he had a wife and a girlfriend—and now they were both disappearing.

We caught up with Gatsby and Daisy and argued about how to spend the afternoon. Jordan wanted to see a movie; Daisy suggested that we rent a hotel room and take cold baths. Finally, for no real reason, we decided to rent a sitting room in a hotel and drink some wine.

The air inside the large room did not move, we opened the windows, but it only let in some hot air.

"Open more windows!" Daisy said.

"There aren't any more windows." Tom said.

"Well, then telephone the manager and ask for a hammer—"

"Don't think about the heat," said Tom sharply. "Talking about it only makes it feel worse."

"Let her talk, young fellow," said Gatsby.

There was a moment of silence.

"You always say 'young fellow'. Where'd you learn to say that?"

"Be polite, Tom," said Daisy, "if you are going to be rude I'll leave. Call up and order some ice for the drinks."

Tom picked up the telephone and ordered some ice and drinks. Then he started talking to me about our college days. Suddenly, he turned towards Gatsby.

"Mr Gatsby, I hear you went to Oxford."

"Not really."

"Oh, yes, I heard you studied there."

"Yes—I went there."

There was a pause. Then Tom's voice, scolding and not believing, "I wonder when you could have been there?"

Again, there was a pause. A waiter entered with ice, and closed the door softly. We all looked at Gatsby. This important part of his history was finally going to be told.

"I told you I went there," Gatsby said.

"Yes, I heard you. I'd like to know when."

"In 1919, I only studied there for five months. I can't really say that I am an Oxford student. It was an opportunity that the army gave to some of the officers after the war."

I was very happy to hear Gatsby's words. My belief in him returned.

Daisy smiled. "Open the wine, Tom, and I'll make you a drink."

"Wait!" yelled Tom. "I want to ask Mr Gatsby another question."

"Please ask," Gatsby said politely.

"What kind of trouble are you making in my house?"

The secret was now in the open. Tom was ready to fight.

"He isn't making trouble," said Daisy. "You're making trouble, Tom. Please calm yourself."

"Calm myself! Do you expect me to stand here and do nothing while Mr Nobody from nowhere sleeps with my wife?"

"I want to tell you something, "said Gatsby. "Your wife never loved you. She loves me."

"You're crazy!" cried Tom.

Gatsby jumped up from his chair. "She only married you because I was poor and she was tired of waiting for me to come back from the war. It was a terrible mistake, but in her heart she only loved me!"

"Daisy!" cried Tom. "How long have you been seeing this man?"

"I already told you," said Gatsby. "We've been in love for five years."

Tom turned sharply to Daisy.

"You've been seeing this young fellow for five years?"

"No," said Gatsby. "No, we were not able to see each other. But we were in love all that time."

"That's a lie!" Tom yelled. "Daisy loved me when we were married and she still loves me now. I love Daisy too. Sometimes I go out on a little adventure with another woman, but I always come back, and in my heart I always love her."

"You're terrible," shouted Daisy. She turned towards me. "Do you know why we had to leave Chicago? Have you heard the story of that 'little adventure'?"

"Daisy, that is in the past now," said Gatsby. "Just tell him the truth—that you have never loved him."

Daisy looked at Gatsby, but her eyes were empty.

"Say that you never loved him!" repeated Gatsby.

She paused. "I never loved him," she said with a nervous voice.

"Not on our wedding?" demanded Tom.

"No."

"Not on that day when it rained and I carried you home to keep your shoes dry?" There was softness and love in Tom's voice.

"Please don't speak!" Daisy cried. She tried to light a cigarette, but her hands were shaking. Suddenly, she threw the cigarette down on the floor.

"You want too much!" she cried to Gatsby. "I love you now and have loved you for five years—isn't that enough? I can't change what is in the past. Yes, I did love Tom once—but I loved you too."

"Even that is a lie," said Tom. "During these years she never thought about you."

Tom's words seemed to go into Gatsby's heart like a knife.

"I want to speak to Daisy alone," Gatsby said.

"Even alone I can't say I never loved Tom." Daisy's voice was shaking. "It wouldn't be true."

"Of course it wouldn't," said Tom. "Don't worry, Daisy, from now on I'm going to take care of you.

"You don't understand," said Gatsby. "You're not going to take care of her any more."

"I'm not?" Tom laughed. "Why's that?"

"Daisy is leaving you."

"You're truly crazy." Tom yelled.

"Yes, I am leaving you, Tom," Daisy said nervously.

"No, she's not leaving me! She definitely won't replace me with a dishonest young fellow like you! Who are you, Mr Gatsby? You work with Meyer Wolfshiem—I've learned about your affairs!"

"I won't listen to this!" cried Daisy. "Let's leave!"

"I know what your 'medicine stores' were. You and this Wolfshiem bought a lot of medicine stores here and in Chicago and used them to sell illegal alcohol. My friend David told me. But now you and Wolfshiem are doing something even more terrible—it is so terrible that David is afraid to talk about it."

I looked at Gatsby; he had a terrible expression on his face. Then his expression changed, and he began talking to Daisy in a nervous and excited voice. But she was not listening to him, so he stopped talking. Her courage was definitely gone. She asked again to leave.

"You two go home," said Tom. "Go in Mr Gatsby's car. He won't trouble you now—he realizes that your time together is over."

They left silently. After a moment Tom stood up and began putting the bottle of wine back in the towel.

"Do you want this wine, Nick?"

I didn't answer.

"Nick?"

"What?"

"Do you want any wine?"

"No ... I just remembered that today is my thirtieth birthday."

It was already six o'clock when Tom, Jordan and I got into the car and drove back to East Egg.

I was sad to be thirty years old. Most of my friends were married, but I was still alone. I was getting older and my hair was disappearing. However, Jordan was beside me and she was smarter than Daisy. Still, I knew inside that I did not love her.

So we continued driving, towards the future and towards death.

(end of section)