Jazz music danced with the breeze as Gatsby dipped his feet into the
depths of the pool."Gatsby!"
"How are you old sport?"
"Nevermind how I am, Jay. I need to tell you something. You're in great
trouble, Gatsby. You need to go far, far away from this place."
"That's nonsense.
Why would I leave when Daisy is so close to being
mine. I haven't given up thus far and I don't intend to throw in the
towel now. Would you like to join me for a swim?"
"No, Gatsby."
"Why not? It's a beautiful day. I'll have my butler get you some swim trunks to change in to. "
"I'm not interested in a swim. I'm interested in getting you far away as possible."
"What has gotten into you, old sport?"
"I just dreamed a horrific nightmare. Wilson is coming for you. He'll kill you when he gets here."
"What are you talking about?"
"Daisy and Tom flew to France. Jordan told me over lunch and I didn't
have the heart to tell you until now. Wilson is going to come for you.
He thinks you killed Myrtle. Stop waiting around for Daisy to come and
run for your life!"
"Nevermind about Wilson. We need to go rescue Daisy. Tom may have hurt
her. I shouldn't have put this past him, trying to run away and steal
the love of my life right out from underneath me. She doesn't even love
him. We have to go to France and bring Daisy back to where she belongs.
With me."
"As long as you leave East Egg immediately, I don't care where you go."
"Well you're coming with me, old sport.
We'll bask in the French passion of romance, art, and cuisine. Then Daisy and I will drink champagne along the
Eiffel Tower and toast to new beginnings and
unrequited love."
My quiet hesitation made Gatsby's reassuring smile turn into a pleading gaze. I took a deep breath and knew that I had to stand by Gatsby, even if I knew he was running himself and his pride right into the
soggy swampland of the East Egg. With a quick nod my head and an affirmation of his request, Gatsby rushed into his quiet home to pack his life away into a
valise.
We were bound for nowhere. I knew it. And I think even then, as we were standing on the airstrip waiting for the private jet to arrive, Gatsby knew it too. Even I couldn't hide the fatalism upon my crooked face as I drew in my last suffocating breaths of East Egg air.
