"I'm in the strangest guesthouse", he told me.

"Strange? Why?", I asked.

"Something about it made me notice it and I had to go in. Then, well, there's the owner. There's something strange about her but I don't know what it is".

"What can it be?"

"I don't know, but it's something that she does that makes me not to want to lose sight of her. I'll find out soon".

We spoke the next day. My friend was excited but also amused.

"Can you imagine who she is?" he asked. "Demian's nursemaid!" He laughed without giving me time to answer, as if that woman was the most ridiculous being on the planet. "Jimmy has told me to leave immediately. He says that I am not yet ready for a meeting with Demian. But I don't believe it", he continued saying with his particular romantic predisposition for battle.

At that moment some typical noises were heard on the line. Someone was listening. Jimmy appeared immediately. He started to sing a song very cheerfully through my friend's mouth. The words of the song mentioned certain times in which, after years of darkness, light finally returns, or something similar. The song was obviously directed towards our invitees. After this interruption I suggested to Gatsby that he should leave the place if Jimmy had advised him to. He told me that he would spend one more night there. He was anxious to confront Demian, to measure his strength.

"Who is that nursemaid?" I asked him.

"She is the one who raised him. The hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that dominates the world!" he answered.

I then remembered the many times that Gatsby had spoken to me about the importance of education. There was nothing more important than education, and I interpreted his remark in that sense.

He called me again on the third day. He was disconcerted. All his assurance had disappeared. He could not understand how it had happened. He had left that morning and had not come back until the afternoon. He went to open the car door but he had left the keys in the guesthouse room. He said all that as if someone had been cleverer than him and I could not believe what he was saying. These mistakes were not customary for Gatsby. He went on to say that we had to get rid of the car. He repeated it several times and said it nervously and with a certain tone of guilt. Then he hesitated for a moment and said that he would take the car for one last time to go to the train station. He needed to go to another city. He could not do this by himself and I had to help him. Then he made it clear that under no circumstances was he going to drive that car again. Everything happened very fast.

"Well, that's okay", I told him, "I'll sell the car. It's only seven months old. I'll get back some of the money".

"No, no you can't. That car is a bomb. At any moment something will fail and it'll kill someone. You should take it to Volkswagen. Leave it as a trade-in for another car. They have a review process for used car sales that is so exhaustive that the car will not pass. That's the only solution".

"But what have they done to the car?" I asked.

"Black arts", he said.

That very weekend I went to Barcelona. I found the car at the train station and I had it put on a freight train going back to my city. From the moment that I came upon the car at the station, I noticed that someone was following me. He was a somewhat unusual type. His face seemed absolutely empty and revealed nothing. I saw him several times more over the years. He always followed me with no attempt at concealment. I watched him curiously, wanting to see something of Demian in him, something of his character.

That person was like a joke version of Demian. It was his sense of humor. That is how I saw it.

When I picked up the car at its destination, I called Gatsby because I had to drive it to the dealership. He had to watch out to ensure that nothing happened that would put my life in danger.

After a lot of effort I managed to give the car back as a trade-in for the purchase of a new one, refinancing the debt. The new car would be for me. I can also say that I had needed three loans to pay for it and that in the end, the price was more than double its original one. This whole event might give an idea of how difficult it was to support Gatsby. Difficulties came up all the time and they aggravated the situation incredibly, to the extent that what was taking place at the time appeared impossible.