We Selfless Gatsbys

We Gatsbys have always had an altruistic desire to put others before ourselves. We are humble, modest, and kind-hearted sort of chaps, and the smile on someone’s face is always worth the hassle of trying to put it there in the first place.

This particular story begins in my library. Well, I suppose it isn’t a library really… it would be more fitting to call it a cupboard with a few books and a bean bag. Nevertheless, I was curled up in my library, sipping on a cup of piping hot tea and nibbling on a few biscuits, when the doorbell rang, shaking me out of the state of bliss that one generally feels when reading a good book. 

Muttering angrily to myself, I left the library-cum-cupboard, and opened the front door, only to be confronted by a childhood pal of mine, William Arthur Ainsworth. We had bonded, in our days of youth, over a shared middle name, but I hadn’t seen him since graduating from Cambridge. Until now, that is.

“Why, if it isn’t Bill Ainsworth!”, I exclaimed.

“Oh Freddie, it’s good to see you again.”, he said.

“What brings you here, old bean?” I asked.

William bit his lip nervously. 

“I think we should discuss it over brunch tomorrow, my friend. It might be too heavy a topic to discuss at your front door.”

Now I was getting suspicious. A fellow I hadn’t seen in over 10 years, suddenly wanting to discuss heavy topics over brunch? Fishy, very fishy. Regardless of my suspicions, I agreed to meet him at the Savoy the following afternoon.

                                                                          _

I found old Bill the next day, occupying a window seat at the Savoy, chewing on a bread stick rather pensively. I sat down opposite him and flashed him a radiant smile, displaying my lovely set of pearly-whites. I’m not sure why Bill grimaced when I smiled at him, but then again, he had always been slightly touched in the head, poor boy. 

“Freddie, old chap, I have to ask you a favour.” said William.

“Ask away, old chum, ask away!” I said encouragingly, and grinned, inciting another grimace from William.

“First, have a bread stick.”, said William.

I politely declined.

“Some kippers?”

I shook my head.

“Oh, an omelette!”

“No thanks.”

“Toast?”

“I’ll pass.”

William sighed, anxiety casting a shadow over his round face.

“Well Fred, I don’t know how to say this. I feel like I’m asking a lot from you, but I know you will do it for me. I remember how kind-hearted you were when we were in school, always helping people out.”

This affair was getting fishier by the moment. Even fishier than the kippers that lay uneaten on William’s plate.

“You see, Freddie, I’ve been trying to get a job for the past few months, but nothing appears to be working! So I have decided to start my own business; but unfortunately I don’t have enough money to do it! I-”

William Ainsworth was cut off mid-sentence by a waiter who had come to inquire as to whether we wanted some more tea. 

“Ah yes,” said William, seeming relieved at the interruption, “ we’ll have some. Mine should have five lumps of sugar, a teaspoon of milk, a spot of honey…”

He droned on and on about the specifics of the tea, while I wondered how a jobless man was eating at the Savoy. Finally the waiter stepped away, leaving me alone with Bill again.

“Well Freddie… I’m awfully afraid that you won’t like the request I have to make, but I know that-”

“Get on with it, Ainsworth.”, I snapped, causing William to blush in a flustered manner.

“See here, Fred, here’s the position I’m in. I want terribly to start an accounting firm of my own, but as I mentioned before, I have no money! The only way I can acquire the funds to start the firm is if my uncle endorses me. He’s a rather rich old thing you know, and a few thousand pounds is nothing to him, but could save my career.”

“Career? What career? You haven’t got one.” I said rather nastily. As I reflect on the situation, I realise now that I might have come off as rude.

William looked as though he were about to cry.

“Oh Freddie! Don’t say such things! I’m trying my best, you know!”

“All right, all right. So why don’t you just ask your uncle for the cash then?”

Bill dabbed at his eyes with his handkerchief and sniffed. I tried my hardest not to roll my eyes at his behaviour, but they seemed to roll of their own accord.

“Ever since I was born, I have never quite managed to make a good impression on my uncle. He has always considered me somewhat of a good-for-nothing.”

Which you are.

“I always seem to say the wrong things,” he continued tearfully, “and even though I try my hardest, he never seems to like me! So here’s what I ask of you, my old friend, my best mate, my favourite pal, my chum, my brother. Please, please, please, could you go over to his lodgings… and pretend to be me?”

Have you ever choked on your tea so hard that the hot liquid goes up your nose and into your head until your brains are swimming in the stuff, and your thoughts are stained brown with tea? Well, that’s what happened to me. I stared at my old friend in shock. 

“What on earth do you mean?”

“Well Freddie, you have always had a way with people! All I’m asking of you is to go to Bentley Court, pretend to be me, and ask for the money!”

“But won’t your uncle realise that I’m not you?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Fred! Well? Will you do it?” asked William hopefully.

I had a long hard think, and ultimately decided to break the news to him in a polite, gentle manner.

“No”, I said.

“No?” faltered the Ainsworth.

“No”, I reiterated.

Bill sank back into his chair, and shook his head.

“That was a straightforward answer”, he said ruefully.

“I’m not in the habit of beating about bushes.”, I said rather frigidly.

“Have some bread with butter, Freddie.”

“Absolutely not.” I was not going to let him butter me up with actual butter.

William’s eyes swam with tears, and he began sniffling uncontrollably. His demeanour was starting to remind me of a lost puppy, all miserable and helpless and…

“All right, old chap, I shall do it” I sighed defeatedly. You see, I will forever be a Gatsby at heart. The selfless, altruistic Gatsby blood shall always flow through my veins.

Bill’s face split into a wide smile, and he looked as if he was about to get down on one knee and ask me to marry him. He began thanking me profusely, which rather warmed my heart, but the moment he started kissing my feet, I decided I had had enough and left the restaurant hurriedly.

                                                                           _

A week or so later, I entered the residence of Sir Wilberforce Bentley; although you might know him better as William Ainsworth’s uncle. I had put on my best suit for the occasion, the same one that I had once worn when I had a job as a translator for an English duke. It was a marvellous suit, a sprightly yellow outfit, accentuated by lovely white frills.

Before entering ‘my uncle’s’ drawing room, I took a deep breath. I must forget that I was ever Frederick Arthur Gatsby. I am now William Arthur Ainsworth. 

“Uncle!” I exclaimed jovially, slouching slightly to further imitate the characteristics of the real William Ainsworth. “It’s me, your nephew, Bill!”

I looked around, trying to spot my so-called ‘Uncle’. I couldn’t find him. The only other living creature in the room was a rather large, wrinkly, Rhesus Macaque monkey. I wondered incredulously as to why a monkey was sitting in Sir Wilberforce Bentley’s armchair, but upon closer inspection I noticed that it was not a monkey, but Sir Wilberforce himself. It was just that he bore a striking resemblance to a Rhesus Macaque monkey.

The monkey-man squinted his eyes at me, looking me up and down. 

“Where’s William?” he asked. From this question, I quickly gathered that he knew I was an impostor.

“Uncle! What do you mean? It’s me, William!” I cried, trying my utmost to sound like his real nephew.

“No, it isn’t. Last time I saw William, he had brown hair and brown eyes; how do you explain your blonde hair and blue eyes?”

“Oh, I simply bleached my hair and wore blue lenses in my eyes. It’s the fashion nowadays, you know.”

“I see?”

“Yes, you do see.”

“Well, perhaps I’ve gotten old,”

“Not at all! You don’t look a day over 90, uncle!” I said sweetly.

This comment did not appear to sit well with the old man. I attributed this to a shared mental issue with his nephew. The wrinkled old chap scratched his ribcage, and the striking resemblance that he bore to the Rhesus Macaque struck me even harder than before. I unsuccessfully attempted to swallow the guffaw that was building in my throat, but successfully disguised it as a cough.

“Uncle, I’ve come to ask a favour.”

Have you ever seen a Rhesus Macaque monkey roll its eyes? Well, I can say I have.

“A favour, eh?”

“Quite.”

“Well what is it, boy? Spit it out.”

“Uncle, it has always been my life’s ambition to start an accounting firm, but the measly inheritance that my late parents have left me has unfortunately hindered my ability to do so.”

“Of course. Your parents were good-for-nothings, just like you.”

By now, I had gotten quite accustomed to being William Ainsworth, so this insult to his birth-givers felt like an insult to mine. I fought back an angry retort, and instead forced out a curt laugh.

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” I left a pause after each ‘ha’ so that my fake uncle knew that I was offended, but was trying not to show it. 

“Well, my useless nephew, what do you want?”

“I would be ever so grateful if you could give me a few thousand pounds to start the firm.” I asked the question as sweetly and gently as one could possibly ask a question to an overgrown, talking, Rhesus Macaque.

“Accounting, eh?”, said the monkey-man hybrid, “interested in accounting, are you?”

“Yes, uncle, I am absolutely infatuated with it! In fact, I do accounting in my free time!”

“Accounting in your free time?”

“Quite.”

“I see,” said my pseudo-uncle, “well, can you answer me this question, William? What is a balance sheet? You must know that if you want to pursue a career in accounting.”

Oh dear. I was not expecting this. However, I have always prided myself on my quick and brilliant mind.

“One thing only I know; and that is that I know nothing. This makes me very wise, uncle.”

“Who said that quote?”

“A friend of my late father’s, uncle.”

“No, I’m quite sure it was Socrates.”

“Yes, uncle. Socrates was a good friend of my father’s.”

“That’s impossible, boy.”

I was beginning to grow rather exasperated. I explained gently to Sir Wilberforce Bentley that it was indeed possible for Socrates to be friends with my father. It wasn’t as if my father couldn’t have any friends!

“But – Socrates lived thousands of years ago!”

“Not at all, my dear uncle. He is, in fact, the same age as my father would be if he were alive. So that’s where you’re wrong.”

“Oh dear. I must be getting old.”

“Indeed.” I agreed.

The old Bentley then proceeded to tell me about how he, too, was interested in great philosophers like Socrates, and how his impression of me had improved a good deal.

“But I have one objection, boy,” said my irritating ‘uncle’, “so far, you haven’t done particularly well in your other jobs. What do you have to say about that, boy?”

“One cannot step twice in the same river.” I said, wisely.

“Heraclitus said that.”

“Yes, he was a great friend of my mother’s.”

“Ah. I never knew that you were this interested in the great philosophers of the world! We must talk about philosophy more often, my boy!”

“Indeed, uncle, indeed. We certainly must.”, I concurred.

“You know what, my dear nephew? Here is a cheque for 5,000 pounds. Start your firm! I have faith in you, my boy!”

Have you ever seen a Rhesus Macaque monkey smile proudly, with tears of pride prickling in its eyes? Well, my dear reader, I can say that I have.

I gladly and gratefully took the cheque from my ape-esque uncle’s wrinkled hands. I thanked him profusely, and a few minutes later, exeunt Frederick Arthur Gatsby and his gorgeous frilly yellow suit.

                                                                               _

I walked into my house to find the real William Ainsworth seated comfortably on my couch.

“Did you do it?” he asked eagerly.

“Indeed, I did.” said I.

“Well then! Hand me the check now, old bean!” exclaimed my childhood friend enthusiastically.

I smiled at him.

“No. No, I don’t think I will. I think I shall keep my hard-earned money, thank you very much.” I said. You see, I had grown quite attached to the elderly Sir Bentley, but I had grown even more attached to the 5,000-pound cheque that I clutched tightly in my hand.

Poor Bill’s face fell, and his eyes no longer held the crazed, euphoric gleam that they had a few minutes ago. But this time, no matter how much selfless blood ran in my veins, I would not let myself be used as a device for William Ainsworth to open an accounting firm.

“But Freddie! Don’t you remember when I saved you from drowning in the school swimming pool?”

“ I remember no such thing.”

“Oh, perhaps it never happened.”

“Rather.”

“Sorry, old chap. I’ll go now. I hope you have a great life.” he said, woefully.

“I shall.”

William walked to the front door, but just as he was about to leave, I called for him to wait a moment.

“Oh, William, wait!”

He turned around, his big brown eyes filled with hope.

“Your uncle looks rather like a Rhesus Macaque monkey.”

And with that, I shut the door.