Saving Jay Gatsby

A Breaststroke of Fate

It seems that I will not be seeing Gatsby for the rest of the night. 

It was as if Nick and Gatsby had wandered off into another plane of existence. Once they exited my direct line of sight, I couldn't find them again, regardless of how much I searched.

Hours had likely passed as I searched for them. Perhaps they were outside? it could be fruitful to go out there to check, but Gatsby's warning about the gardens was still felt fresh in my mind.

As the party guests began to wander back to their cars, a woman approached me. Her hair was pinned back into a tight knot that rested atop her head. Streaks of grey dotted her otherwise dark-brown hair. She looked quite young to have grey in her hair. Perhaps she has a phenomenal skin care routine.

In the middle of my gawking, the woman spoke. "You are Alice, I presume?" She spoke English perfectly, but there was a whisper of an accent when she spoke.  

"Yes, how did you know?"

The woman crossed her arms. The top she had on looked to be a stripped shirt. It was immaculately starched, as if it had been freshly ironed. Her skirt was longer than most of the partiers; it almost touched the floor. 

"I am Annkia. I work for Mr. Gatsby." She unfolded her arms and gestured to the staircase by the foyer. "Your room is ready, if you would like to get settled for the night."

"Oh thank you." I scanned the room, trying to catch a glimpse of Nick or Gatsby. Still nothing. I turned back to Ms. Annika. "How did you know it was me, though?"

She seemed a little surprised by my question. "Well, um... Mr. Gatsby provided a description of you and I thought-" she stopped speaking for a moment. "I'm sorry, I am not sure if I should have said that," She sputtered out. "My employer, he is a kind man. I assure you that he is a gentleman. I don't want you to misconstrue his intentions!"

"No, I understand. I was just wondering if he had pointed me out to you... I haven't been able to spot him in a while."

Ms. Annika nodded knowingly, "That is Mr. Gatsby all right. He flutters around this big house like a dragonfly, always on the move and too fast to catch." Her shoulders slumped slightly, "it's a miracle I can get anything done here, waiting for his approval on changes. He's quite a driven and busy man, you know."

"Yes, he seems quite driven."

Ms. Annika gestured to the staircase once more. We began to climb up together. The stairs were marble, but they had an almost golden tone to them. It reminded me of honey. My hands rested on the railing. There is no chance in hell that I will be falling down a second time tonight. 

Ms. Annika turned to me as she reached the top of the stairs. "I will say, he seems different tonight. There's an excitement to him that I have not seen before... I think your arrival may lead to good things for Mr. Gatsby."

I forced a smile. Gatsby's excitement was probably due to Nick Carraway, not me. It isn't something I can really explain that to her though, so it's probably best to leave it at that.

"Well, here is your room." Ms. Annika said, stopping at an ornate, white door. It was right across the hallway from the room Gatsby had modeled for Daisy. I looked a little farther down the hall at two large double doors.

Gatsby's room. Although I had not been in there for very long, I could still imagine the smell of mahogany and linen that permeated that room. 

Did Gatsby notice? Or was he so used to it that he smelled nothing?

Ms. Annika swung open the bedroom door.

The room was... very white. White walls surrounded a white bed. The bed had, you guessed it! White sheets.