Gatsby and I

In the West Egg

The mist I was talking about turned into a literal, real fog. I could see nothing in it. Then shortly after, it faded. A foghorn was heard in the distance twice. The loud "Uuuh-uuuuuuh..." sound of the foghorn hit my eardrums so hard that I had to cover my ears. But I was no longer at home and no longer sitting on my bed, unchanged, in my flannel shirt and blue jeans. I was standing, in the middle of this town by the bay. I could see that I was somewhere on a paved road, and some houses were there. I was somewhere near the bay and I could barely see the pier on the other side. I rubbed my eyes a couple times. I almost wanted to burst out in song and choose to sing "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen on this occasion. But this desire was quenched when I saw a woman walk by (I had seen three others, in dresses and with bob haircuts, but none near me) and she looked at me strangely. Her hair was curly and, nonetheless, done in a bob. I giggled and she rolled her eyes at me, stopping in her path. These eyes were deep blue.

" 'S the matter, young lady? Yeah, I don't know how bad or good this looks on me, but these days most every woman gets a bob. You gotta keep up with fashion.", she said to me in a rather scolding, authoritarian, explanatory voice.

"I just find it sort of funny that your curly hair is in a bob. What's your name, miss?"

"Dear, I'm Celestine. You just popped up outta nowhere on the path to my front yard," she continued in awe. "It's like you were born out of the mist. You talk kinda funny, dear. Are you by chance a Redneck?"

"Yes," I lied to Celestine. "And my name is Clara..."

I stalled. I looked around for inspiration. But all I could find was too obvious. I saw a house and I thought I could say House, but that would have been too obvious. I saw a bird in the sky. A seagull. I couldn't say Byrd or Gull either, so something else was needed. Then, I saw a willow near the bay. That was sort of curious, but I thought that would do. So I continued:

"Willows. Yep, Clara Willows. Born and raised in the land they call Nebraska. Pure Nebraskan Redneck, yes siree!"

"That explains your attire. You should know that this ain't home in Nebraska. Maybe back there women can wear trousers, but here it's less often that they do so. Especially not blue jeans like yours! But I gotta admit they really suit you though. "

"Celestine, you said 'here' a second ago. Where exactly am I?"

"I thought you knew. This land here is called the West Egg. More specifically, you're in Long Island, New York City, in the state of New York. Isn't it kinda gloomy around here?"

I didn't know what exactly to say. I wanted to say it was, but the blossoming frontyards of houses nearby proved me wrong. I wanted to say it isn't, but the mist and cloudy skies kept me from saying that. So I said:

"Rather! But more like it isn't. Look at the houses, Celestine, and how beautiful; their front yards are!"

"So you're what they call an Optimist, eh? I see both sides of the glass and you're right. It ain't that gloomy now that I see the grass so green and alive. Which reminds me: do you have a place to stay?"

"No, I truly don't."

"Good. I can be your hostess if you want. I stay where this poor soul called Nick Carraway used to stay. You ever heard of him?"

"I think I heard that name someplace or the other. The stockbroker, ain't it?"

"Precisely, the stockbroker."

This was it. Nick Carraway. I had heard that name before in the movie. And I had read it in "The great Gatsby". That woman Celestine was dressed like in the 20s, and that was the latest fashion because those three women I had seen walk by were dressed pretty much the same.

Oh my God! I was stuck in the book, in the literal book!