Chapter Text
I finally brought the phone down, though I can’t quite recall which of us was the one to hang up first with a sharp click. I didn’t give it too much thought, as I soon found myself worrying again. My hands started to feel sweaty as my head came back to the time I’d spent with Gatsby after the incident.
I heard him pull up at around five o’clock in the morning and talked to him for the time being. Well, more than talking, I just listened. He had told me of his time with Daisy, although at one point it appeared like I wasn’t even present. As I was just used as a poor excuse for him to lose himself one last time in his delusion before its cracks became any more prominent.
Yet, albeit knowing I was merely there to feed into his hopeless dream, I had desired to stay with him. Not only because I wanted to make sure he was as fine as we both could be after last night’s frightful mayhem, but the terrible feeling I had felt this morning had stayed with me.
That something terrible was going to happen and I needed to be there for Gatsby. Be present to warn him, to just do… something. But I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was, or why I felt this way.
I soon remembered having assured him I would call him at noon which, now that I noticed, I was a few minutes late on said commitment. I grabbed the phone once more and called his house, but there came no response as the line was busy. I tried a few more times until I was met with an exasperated central who told me the wire was being kept open for long distance from Detroit.
I clicked the phone back into place once more and deliberately pulled up my time-table. There weren’t that many trains available at the time, the only one headed to the closest station home being accessible at three-fifty.
I sighed in resignation and drew a small circle on it before leaving it aside, then I leaned back on my chair and just lost myself in my thoughts as I waited for the time to come. I wasn’t getting any work done either way, and even if I forced myself to, I could feel my worn-out eyelids start to give in again due to past insomnia. But I also couldn’t shake the nervous sensation from before which, unluckily, scared any possible rest away, trapping me in a loop of restlessness.
Minutes felt like hours, as my head kept coming back to yesterday’s events. Everything had felt so surreal, now thinking about it showed challenging as I struggled to look for concrete details on the incident and aftermath that weren’t just fabrications of my agitated mind.
I certainly remembered those abhorrent, wailing sounds coming from George Wilson as he swayed back and forth on his office, and the yellowish, dull light from the lightbulb hanging from the ceiling that barely was able to illuminate the whole place without leaving some murky, dark shadows and corners hidden. There also were the background sounds of frantic, unknown people as they made themselves present, watching and hearing anything that could enlighten them on the treacherous disaster.
The body wrapped dreadfully in blankets, the officer’s inquiring voice, Tom’s insistent remarks, the bleak journey back to East Egg and the awkward stay at the front garden with… I checked the time again. Less than a minute had gone by. I forced my eyes shut as I tried to sleep off the time and ignore my quickly accelerating heartbeat.
It wasn’t simple task, but thankfully I managed to calm down and doze off for a few more hours. Once I awoke again, casually wiping away the embarrassing trail of drool that had begun to form on the side of my mouth, I automatically checked my wristwatch a second time.
I let out a mild groan at the sight of the two-thirty mark and rubbed my eyes and face to get rid of the bits of drowsiness that remained. I couldn’t wait any longer, I needed to get back home before… what? There wasn’t anything to hurry back to. I felt like I was either slowly losing my mind due to the incident last night, or the lack of proper sleep was starting to get to me. Still, this nervous urge to go back, to go and BE there for something assaulted me strongly once more.
And this time, before my rational self could stop me from losing my head and job, I was packing up my things, putting on my hat and heading out.
I decided that, even though it would be the more expensive choice in comparison to taking the train, I would take a taxi all the way to West Egg. It took me a moment to compose myself and rethink my life choices before I was able to stop one of the multiple moving engines and get on it, marking my decision with no turn back.
After what felt like an eternity where all I knew was the sound of the fast-running cars and my exasperated breathing, soon enough I was back home. I got out of the taxi and walked down a few steps to my house before stopping.
I stood indecisively looking back and forth towards Gatsby’s mansion and my own, less eye-catching home. I had come all this way, and yet now I was starting to feel insecure about my inconvenient decision. Perhaps I was being overly paranoid and potentially just lost my career over some vain inquietude, but it wasn’t like I could go back now and repeat the past to take a different approach.
I scratched my nape as I went up my porch and inside the house to leave my stuff somewhere, then I made my way to the massive dwelling.
I still wanted to go check up on Gatsby, see how he was holding up and offer my support where he needed it, at least just with my presence. Though I knew that, if I was to talk to him once more, I would most likely just be used as an opportunity to talk about the woman from his far away fantasies again. Either way, I hoped that he would find some kind of comfort in the interaction and my companionship, even if he was to take advantage of it to start going off on his incoherent, starry-eyed ramblings.
I recalled he said he wanted to try the pool before it was drained for fall, so I made my way to his backyard, in hopes of finding him either swimming or sitting around taking in the sunlight. I got to the place by taking a shortcut through the lawn and getting back on the main walkway, where I soon found Gatsby laying on an air mattress floating in the crystalline waters, looking into the sky.
He seemed lost, not only in thought but, his eyes seemed to have lost a certain spark. That same spark I saw when he showed me that understanding smile for the first time, months ago. As if he had lost a part of himself, and without it felt like he had lost his purpose, his vision, his life.
Just when I was about to make my presence known, I saw a new figure emerge from the shadows of yellowish trees a few feet away from me, inaudibly making its way to the pool. I hesitated and backstepped a little, unsured of what to do next. It hadn’t noticed me, its focal point being Gatsby, though I couldn’t get a clear glimpse of its face. Then I froze as I saw a vague silver glint coming from the figure’s hand. Slowly being raised it became a gun, pointed straight at Gatsby.
Time hindered sorely as the event unfolded in front of me. My body started to tremble uncontrollably, and my heartbeat began to quicken painfully in my chest. Everything went blank in my head as my being was dominated by pure instinct, and I ran.
I saw myself running, towards the figure; a man as I got closer. Then I launched myself forward, knocking over the man. I went deaf as a shot went off, but I was barely able to hear a dull splashing sound coming from… I changed focus to the pool, only to find an irregularly moving mattress, and before long a dark crimson color settling in the disturbed water, slowly fusing with it.
I can’t remember if I cried out his name or not, only that I jumped into the pool. Ignoring the chlorine stinging my eyes, I moved my arms and legs frantically, searching, grabbing at anything. I believe I caught his wrist, pulled him close, and swam to safety, not even knowing if all I was carrying was at a soon to be or already existing corpse.
The last clear memory I can recall and wish I could forget is pressing my jacket into his wound, begging him to stay with me, stuttering meaningless reassurances, and yelling for somebody, anybody to help him… Anybody.