I knew him well. He had always had that potential quality but now he had turned almost entirely into that, as if he had written a great signpost at the center of his will that said "I MUST ARRIVE." Everything that he said and did was colored by that slogan. In some way he had given himself to it entirely and in the process had lost something of his ultra-romantic character. Everything about him indicated someone who one would not want to confront face-to-face. In spite of that change, he still maintained some of his old manner towards me, as if I were the only true friend that he had in this world.

I had not dared to ask him how these last three years had gone, what problems he had had, though those questions were inside me. On one of those days we were together having a coffee, he confessed to me:

"I've turned into someone who it's impossible to destroy. There is no way to finish me off. My very cells have acquired a type of immortal character" he told me, exultant.

He said it with great stress, as if remembering moment in his past life, as if Demian had tested the truth of his words.

"Because you're a type of freak, isn't that right?" I asked him.

"Yes, a freak. Neither my cells nor my blood are human, that's why I can't have children. You know that."

Certainly I had heard him say that on other occasions.


At that time we spoke a lot, we felt very connected. One night he called me on the phone. His girlfriend was pregnant.

"But how can that be possible if you can't have children?" I asked him.

"The child is entirely hers. That is what the spiritual world wanted," he said to me in a resigned tone.

I understood that it was a type of call to order, a singular moment to bring stability to his life. The couple had decided to get married. He had to go to her parents house to introduce himself and give them the good news. Moments before going into the house he called me. Valiant Gatsby was quite nervous and I found it fun to see him in this situation. In the end, after the first shock at the news, the entire family let itself be carried away with the pleasure of the moment.


There were only a few days until the wedding. We talked a little.

"I would like Jimmy to marry us," he said.

"Can he do that?"

"Certainly! Can you imagine him in a cassock?" he said laughing.

He took a toothpick and held it in the palm of his hand.

"My will is stronger every day that passes," he looked at his hand, "able to bend the inner will of objects. I only have to say 'come'."

The toothpick raised itself towards him every time he requested it to. Gatsby was not a showoff. Only I could see that toothpick move and I watched it closely. It was very typical of him to act in such a discreet way.

Right at that time, I started to find something unusual about him. Gatsby appeared to be out of place as if he should have been somewhere else doing other things. I could almost read his mind. Everything in him was telling me that.