“Something like that,” she said with a sly smile.
“Please don’t mention the debutants at Brandeis, OK?” I pleaded.
She broke into a wide grin and laughed.
Dottie sat through the show smiling occasionally, very serious most of the time, looking thoughtful. When it was over, she asked me if we liked it. I said that I couldn’t thank her enough for the tickets, and the show was thoroughly enjoyable…. She looked at me with a crooked smile, I was expecting one of her scathing comments, but all she said was:
“It was rather fun, wasn’t it?”
I nodded, the kids were grinning.
“Sometimes it’s necessary to just relax and enjoy the ride,” I told her.
She smiled at that.
SPEAK EASILY
“I shall be looking forward to your comments in the New Yorker. I don’t know how to thank you,” I confessed as we walked away from the theater into early dusk, rush hour swirling around us.
“Well, you could put me in touch with my two favorite gentlemen… ” she said with a sly grin, “Misters Haig & Haig.”
“Dottie, I’d love to, but the kids… how can I take them to a Speak?”
She grinned, “Not just a ‘Speak,’ but Jack and Charlie’s, the Puncheon Club. It’s an exclusive place, only friends of friends. Besides, I’m a regular, why I even bring my doggie there or at Tony Soma’s. Can’t have you visit New York from the wilds of… Minnesota, is it?… and not enjoy the hospitality of our fair city. Besides, it’s your nickel.”
“I don’t know… ” I said apprehensively.
“Don’t be silly, it’s not only a ‘Speak,’ it’s also a decent restaurant and they have wonderful ice cream sundaes there. Nobody comes for serious drinking until much later… ” she replied. “Besides, there’s somebody I know you’d love to meet. You kiddies like some ice cream?”
The kids grinned and nodded.
“You have a doggie?” Lauren asked her.
“Yes, a simply darling Boston Terrier, Woodrow Wilson, remember, under the table at lunch the other day?”
Lauren nodded, giggling.
We headed north to 49th Street just off 6th Avenue, where Rockefeller Center should be. Everything looked wrong to me, the old El, the ordinary buildings.
She looked at me, “What’s wrong? You look lost….”
“I’m sorry, it’s just that I was expecting a huge series of skyscrapers here… ”
She looked at me narrowly. “Part of your future time, then?”
“Guess so.”
We turned into a stairway leading to ornate iron gates. She rang the bell, a man opened the peephole, then opened the gate and ushered us inside.
“Is this a speak-easy?” Jonathan asked innocently.
“Well, yes it is,” she said looking at me.
“Say, pretty well informed for a little kid, isn’t he?” giving me a hard look. I shrugged my shoulders with a sheepish grin.
“Are we going to meet a gangster?” Lauren asked with a smile as we were ushered inside.
“No, not here…but somebody even better,” she said, in a stage whisper. “It’s a surprise!”
It was an innocent-looking restaurant, almost empty, with a stage and a place for a band. Sitting at a table was a young man, slouching in his chair and I could not mistake that boyish face anywhere.
“Mike, meet Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald,” Dottie said triumphantly.
There he was, looking like a lost boy with those innocent green eyes, getting up from his chair to greet us. F. Scott Fitzgerald himself! One of the most famous authors of all time!
He gave Dottie a kiss on the cheek, playfully tousling Jonathan’s hair and patting Lauren on her head saying, “Hello there, kids…” and then he shook hands with me. “Mike, is it? Just call me Scottie. Meased to pleat you,” he said with a sudden grin.
“The pleasure is all mine, uh, Scottie?” I said nervously.
“Has Dottie been treating you right or giving you the business?” he asked, cracking a big smile. She gave him a look of pure hate, as he laughed and patted me on the back.
“She’s been wonderful. I’m completely at a loss as to how to thank her. It’s such an honor to meet you all,” I said, meaning it.
“Thanks,” he said, “How do you know each other then?” he asked.
“I can’t resist picking up stray puppies, don’t you know?” Dottie said very cool.
She ordered two sundaes for the kids with lots of hot fudge and three whiskey sours.
“No skimping on the cherries, either,” she cautioned the waiter. I bought the first round.
“Lito, who’s this?” Jonathan asked. Lauren smiled shyly at Scott.
“Kids, he’s one of the most famous writers in America, the author who practically coined the term the Jazz Age. His books are often required reading in high school.”
Scott gave us a big grin. Dottie looked at me strangely.
“Must be a pretty fast high school,” Dottie said. “Those books are usually not the sort of thing parents want their kids to be reading….that must be from your time.”
She explained to Scott about my ‘fantasy’ about the future, and he asked if I was a writer too. I said I dabbled a bit, then Lauren jumped in and said that she can write too. Jonathan said she couldn’t write much, and he was better at spelling.
“I’m sure you’re wonderful at spelling, Scottie is simply atrocious!” Dottie said with a big smile, since he had been criticized about that in his early writings.
‘Scottie’ was surprisingly down to earth and genuinely pleased to learn that we were fellow Minnesotans. He told Lauren that he had a little girl too, just about her age. Here was a guy that defined the phrase ‘Party like a Rock Star’ in his world and in his books; he and his crowd made the ’20’s roar, and yet he was quite pleasant with us. I explained to the kids that he and his wife Zelda, when they lived on Long Island in a rented estate among the wealthy in Great Neck, used to hold huge dinner-dances outside under lights along with their newly rich neighbors. Strangers used to crash these parties on a regular basis. ‘The Great Gatsby,’ his latest novel, was based on those experiences.
I couldn’t believe my luck, sitting here with THE F. Scott Fitzgerald! Literature professors would almost give their souls for this opportunity to chat with him. It was like a dream, and the thought occurred to me that when Jonathan or Lauren needed to write a paper for school, they could travel back in time and perhaps actually talk with the historical figure in person, with a little luck.
We had some dinner and it was fascinating to hear Scott, after a few cocktails, talk frankly about his problems with his wife, Zelda and money issues. I mentioned that it was said that he borrowed heavily from Zelda’s diary in his earlier novels and he allowed that was true, after all she was his model for many of his female characters, they practically coined the term ‘Flapper.’
He and Dottie were old friends. Dottie said he was concerned that sales of ‘The Great Gatsby’ were disappointing despite a successful run as a play on Broadway last year.
I couldn’t resist chiming in, “You know, in the long run, it will probably be considered your greatest work and
