PARIS STORIES

The following is a work of creative writing adapted from original historical documents.

FADE IN

EXT.  LA CLOSERIE DES LILAS - EVENING

The CAFE is buzzing. Background noise includes piano music, laughing, and table talk. HEMINGWAY is already seated outside in one of the more secluded terrace seats and is fiddling with the MENU.  Enter FITZGERALD.

HEMINGWAY
Ah my dear Scott! It’s about damned time you show up. 

HEMINGWAY stands up and shakes FITZGERALD’s hand.  HEMINGWAY gestures to the chair across from him and FITZGERALD takes a seat.

FITZGERALD
Greetings and salutations! You’ll forgive me, I had a little trouble finding my way here. 

HEMINGWAY
Shit happens.  Anyways, welcome to the infamous La Closerie de Lilas. They know me as the regular here.  So, how’s the writer’s life?

FITZGERALD
I’ve seen better days…

HEMINGWAY
And the wife?

FITZGERALD
She’s seen better days as well…

WAITRESS comes to the table. 

WAITRESS
(strong French accent)
Bonsoir monsieurs! What may I serve you today? 

HEMINGWAY
I’ll be having the usual martini, dry as always, Adalyn. 

WAITRESS
Of course Mr.  Hemingway.  And for you, monsieur?

FITZGERALD
Some gin and tonic, Madame.

WAITRESS smiles, picks up the menus, and leaves the table.  There is a moment of awkward silence.

HEMINGWAY
Let’s get to the point, shall we? So your new book, Tender is the Night. . . 

FITZGERALD
Oh, uh, yes.  What did you think of it?

HEMINGWAY
(after pausing)
I liked it, and I didn’t. 

FITZGERAlD takes a big gulp of the tonic. 

HEMINGWAY
It started off with a great description of Sara and Gerald. . . but goddamn Scott. If you take real people and write about them you cannot make them do anything they would not do. 

(takes a sip)

Invention is the finest thing but you cannot invent something that would not actually happen. 

FITZGERALD takes yet another big gulp of the tonic. 

FITZGERALD
(raising his glass to Hemingway)
Please, carry on.

HEMINGWAY
In the first place I’ve always claimed that you can’t think, but it’s a lot better than I say Although not as good as you can do.

FITZGERALD
(drains the tonic, a little red-faced now)
Ah Ernest, you always were brutally honest.

HEMINGWAY
(slams fist on the table)
You cheated too damned much in this one! I write one page of masterpiece to ninety one pages of shit.  I try to put that shit in the wastebasket.

FITZGERALD
Ha, if only you knew the horrors I am facing in my life right now.  Zelda in the mental institute! She cherishes her illness as an instrument of power.

FITZGERALD, tipsy, takes a glass of whiskey from a waiter walking by. He takes a sip.

FITZGERALD
Ah.  If Europe ever goes Bolshevik she’ll turn up as the bride of Stalin.

HEMINGWAY
(clearly infuriated)
You feel you have to publish crap to make money to live and let live. Forget your personal tragedy! We are all bitched from the start and you especially have to hurt like hell before you can write seriously.

FITZGERALD almost finishes the whiskey. 

FITZGERALD
(drains the tonic, a little red-faced now)
I’ve spent nine years of my life working on this one. It’s good, good, good. When it’s published people will say that it’s good, good, good.

FITZGERALD suddenly appears SOMBER.

FITZGERALD
Someday you’ll know what people who love suffer.  It’s better to be cold and young than to love.  It’s happened to me before but never like this - so accidental - just when everything was going well.

FITZGERALD finished the whiskey left. 

HEMINGWAY
(In a cool tone)
I’d like to see you and talk about things with you sober. You know I never thought so much of Gatsby at the time.  You can write twice as well now as you ever could.  All you need to do is write truly and not care about what the fate of it is.

FITZGERALD stands up to leave, drunk and somber.

FITZGERALD
New friends can often have a better time together than old friends.

FADE OUT.