*Gasp* What is this? Something other than the Avenger's story? Yes it is. I will hopefully be updating the story soon but I have hit a stump currently so I figured I would dabble in the Great Gatsby. Saw the movie and have read the book and I love the 1920s; the booze, the parties, the gangsters, the poverty, it was a 'fun' time. This short story just came to me and some James Bond fans will see a similarity in it but hope ya'll enjoy.
I DON'T OWN GATSBY
"Please! I just work for the guy, I don't know anything!" The shaking man was slammed into a creaky wooden chair and his hands pinned to the arms by two men who were quite a bit larger.
"Well then why would he send you to do his dirty work honey?" a sultry brunette who had her hair up in a bun and wore dark brown slacks with suspenders and a white button up shirt took a drag off her cigarette, "Frankly my dear, it sounds like you know an awful lot about him."
"I don't! P-p-please! I was just sent, that's all!" The brunette slammed her hand on the table that was in front of the shaking man, the two men pinning didn't even flinch.
"Bull sweets, you're claiming that you never even met this man?"
"No! I…I haven't, I swear." The girl pulled out her switch blade and a flash of silver lit up under the lamp.
"Wrong answer." The brunette went directly towards the man's mouth with the knife. The man began to squirm and squeal, attempting to break the grip of the two men.
"Hold up there Eileen," A voice called out, "we don't want to do anything hasty." A small figure stepped into the room with two other men behind her. This girl was not thin but she was not over weight. Her figure was full and she wore it with pride but there were times when she was insecure yet managed to hide it from the world. In either case, she wore black slacks with suspenders, a blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a black vest and a black fedora with a blue ribbon tilted to the side adorned her head, a peak of dark reddish brown hair that had a purple sheen in the light framed the left side of her face in the form of long bangs. Her skin was fair and she wore light, smoky eye makeup along with a soft burgundy color of lipstick. She walked over to Eileen and put her hand on her shoulder,
"Put the blade away." Eileen sheathed her weapon and took a step back,
"Didn't think you were coming tonight, Charlie." Charlie smiled and sat on the edge of the table leaning back and eyeing the man in the chair,
"I had a couple of minutes so I figured that I would stop by, who is this?"
"A rat that I caught creeping around our luggage with this," Eileen pulled a dirty looking revolver and threw it on the table. The man jumped slightly,
"I have no idea where that came from! I swear!"
"You have been doing an awful lot of 'swearing'," Eileen's eyes turned on him, pinning him to the chair with her gaze.
"May I?" Charlie asked. Eileen shrugged,
"Go ahead." Charlie swiveled on the table and tucked her left knee under her right. She leaned back and pulled out a wooden cigarette that she was rather fond of chewing; some said that it gave her a relaxed look while others said it made her more intimidating. Eileen rolled her eyes but the man in the chair did nothing but shake as sweat glistened on his forehead. Charlie bit down on the cigarette and looked at the man through half closed eyes, contemplating her next move.
The man in the chair seemed to shrink under her gaze. He was rather thin and lanky but had muscle on him. His hair was mussed and he had a light beard that could only have appeared after a day or three of not shaving. His pale blue eyes darted around the room and every time they flitted to Charlie they immediately danced away. Charlie finally un-tucked her legs and took the cigarette from her mouth. She leaned forward, biting her bottom lip.
"What's your name, sugar?" Charlie asked. Charlie had this way of talking to people that reassured them and made them feel safe. She could divulge information from anyone and could do it without their realization. The man's eyes focused, if not with some effort, on Charlie.
"P-P-Phil," he stuttered, "look, I-I didn't do what you're accusin' me of, I swear-" Charlie waved off his attempt at an explanation.
"No one is accusing you here, sugar. You got a family?"
"Me and my sis…and her son…he's six." Charlie nodded as if she understood perfectly.
"Small family, how much do you make?"
"Not enough ma'am…I do what I can to feed the lil' one." Charlie sighed and stood up.
"I understand," Charlie stood in front of Phil and looked down at him, the cigarette twirling between her fingers, "you're a family man I respect that. You have to feed your family. I can understand what you might have been doing." Phil relaxed at this and smiled lightly,
"Yes, I didn't mean to do anything." Charlie held up her hand and Phil stopped.
"I'll let you in on a little secret Phil," Charlie pulled a chair up in front of Phil and sat down in it. She waved the men on either one of Phil's arms away and they stepped back.
"You know what creature I hate the most?" Charlie asked Phil while she draped one arm over the back of her chair and crossed her right leg over her left. Phil shook his head.
"Rats," Charlie said with the upmost serious expression on her face, "they crawl around in dark shadows together and fight over food. They come in swarms and can devastate large populations. They're disease ridden pests and I hate every one of them. But you know what the tricky thing about rats is?" Phil shook his head in a jerky movement that suggested he knew where she was going with her little speech. Charlie smiled and leaned forward, cupping one hand to the side of her mouth,
"They are fucking hard to kill," she whispered. Phil gulped and his eyes seemed to grow larger. Charlie seemed not to notice and continued,
"You see, you can buy all the poison you like, you can beat them in the head with a broom but I found a fantastic way to kill them, would you like me to tell you?" Phil nodded, not really knowing what he was doing, "I found this rat sniffing around in my pantry and decided to take action. I took this rat, put him in a cage and starved him for a few days. This creature was just begging for death every day when I passed by his cage, you could see it in his eyes. Every day I sat there and would eat these fantastic dinners in front of him while he got nothing. After a few days, this creature collapses in his cage and looks at me as if to say, 'just do it'. Do you know what I did then?" Phil shook his head. Charlie pulls out a .45 caliber Colt, the metal gleaming in the glare of the lamp. She cocks the gun and points it at Phil's head. Phil shakes in his chair, his eyes closed now and his hands clenching the arms.
"I shot him," Charlie pulls the trigger. Nothing happens. Phil starts crying and sobbing loud enough where it seems almost girlish. Charlie puts the Colt back in its sling by her side and reaches out to pat Phil's shoulder.
"There now sugar, you're not going to die today." Phil doesn't seem to hear as he continues to sob. Charlie sighs and stands up; she walks around to the back of Phil's chair and puts on hand on either side of the back. Charlie leans close to Phil's ear and asks,
"Now, who is this man you are working for?"
"G-Gatsby! Jay Gatsby! Myer Wolfsheim sent me! I was only going to take one case for them to test, I swear! God, I don't wanna die! Please don't kill me!" Phil fell out of the chair on his knees, his face in his hands and tears streaming down his cheeks. He kept calling out to God but there seemed to be no one there to listen. Charlie walked to the side of Phil and kneel down to pat his shoulder,
"Phil, I have another job for you," she whispered.
"Please d-d-don't kill m-m-me," Phil whimpered.
"I'm not going to kill you," Charlie told him, "I just want you to deliver a message to Wolfsheim." Phil nodded and cut his blubbering to listen as Charlie whispered in his ear her message. When she was done Charlie leaned back and smiled,
"Do you think you can do that, sugar?" Phil nodded, his tears still streaming.
"Good, my boys will escort you out. Don't forget my message." Charlie nodded at the two men who had pinned Phil. They jumped into action and grabbed one of Phil's arms. Phil allowed them to drag him dumbly from the room as he continued to sob. Charlie stood up and sighed. She whisked her hat from her head and ran her hand through her hair. Eileen looked at Charlie with a smug look on her face,
"What was the message?"
"Say goodbye to truce motherfucker," Charlie said as she put her cigarette back in its case. Eileen lit a real one and let out a ring of smoke,
"You gave me the chills with that rat story."
"It's a mind fucker alright," Charlie began heading out the door, "would you like to accompany me for a drink?" Eileen smiled,
"On you?"
"If I must." Eileen put out her cigarette and grabbed her coat off the table. Charlie and Eileen walked out from the warehouse to the covered black Duisenberg that rumbled in the lot next to the warehouse.
"Perhaps you can regale me on a fact that has just been made known to me," Charlie told Eileen as they slid into the leather coated interior.
"Ask away, I am, of course, your almanac." The door was closed by the drive and Charlie turned to Eileen,
"Who is this Jay Gatsby?"