Rooming With Elvis

Chaper 18: Jane

This drive seems to be taking forever. I stare at the boring, brown corn stalks and hope to see some murderer pop out of them. But, to my dismay, they stay boring cornstalks.

"How much longer is this drive??" I groan, and Elvis looks over at me. I give him a blank stare and he checks his watch.

"Probably another four hours," he mumbles, knowing I'm gonna blow up and complain. And this, my friends, is exactly what I do.

"Oh. My. God. WHY did I move so far away from PA?? We could've met somewhere closer to Memphis, and I wouldn't have to sit in this stuffy car playing crappy music I've already heard 900 times. I am about to give up at this point," I rant, and Elvis just looks at me.

"Honey pie, go to sleep if you're going to complain. I'm gettin a headache, and if you sleep,
time will pass quicker and my headache will subdue. So please, do us both a favor and take a nap."

I glare at him, but take his advice and lay down. I feel myself drifting off to sleep, and my dreams are filled with sugar plums and gum drop fairies.

I feel a hand shake me awake and look up groggily at the person who woke me up. "Give me a few more hours please," I mumble in my sweetest voice and shift back into my comfortable position. He shakes me harder, and this time I take a glance at his face, which is red, and his eyes are filled with tears. I immediately scramble out of the car and hug him.

"Come on, let's get inside," he mumbles and breaks from my hug and walks inside the house. I shoot a confused look into his back but follow him anyway. When I get inside I immediately am put off by how messy it is. Gladys never let the house get this messy. I know that for a fact because she always went on tangents about how she spent her whole life cleaning up after them.

I look up at Elvis who hasn't moved for a solid minute. Without looking at me, he gestures at a note on the table. With shaky hands, I pick up the note and carefully read it, feeling fear deep in my stomach.

         Kids,
Gladys is not in good health. She collapsed a couple hours after you two called. I am talking her to the hospital, but she isn't looking good. Come to Holy Health Hospital as soon as possible. I am not sure how much time she has left.

Daddy

I quickly turn around and look at Elvis's pale, grief-stricken face as it sinks in that we are most likely too late. But I grab his hand and drag him out of the house towards the car. He doesn't protest, and just lets himself be pulled along. I help him into the passenger's seat and hop into the driver's side, quickly starting up the engine. I am a reckless driver, so what should have been a 30 minute drive was a mere 15 minutes.

As we run into the hospital I begin to feel a sense of dread. I drop Elvis's hand and run up to the front counter.

"Who are you here to see?" the pretty young nurse asks.

"Gladys Presley," I blurt, and she looks at her computer.

"And how are you related to her?" she inquires looking me up and down. I know I probably look like a freak, but at this moment in time I could care less.

"I am her daughter-in-law, and her son is standing over there," I turn around to point at Elvis, and am horrified to see that he is not there. "Oh god," I whisper, and dart off ignoring the cries of protest from the nurse behind me. I dart through hallway after hallway, dodging nurse after nurse, listening for the one thing that an bring me to him. Then I stop dead in my tracks.

"One more day, one more time,
One more sunset, maybe I'd be satisfied
But then again, I know what it would do
Leave me wishing still for one more day with you"

As he finished the last verse of the song I felt the tears drip down my cheeks. That song was sacred to him. It was the song his mama sang to his grandmama when she lay on her deathbed. I immediately know there is little to no hope for Gladys. I pinpoint the room and quietly walk in. I am barely able to hold back my gasp at the sight of the room. It's hardly big enough to fit the bed, let alone the two nurses, one doctor, Vernon and Elvis. The walls are an awful grey and nothing exciting occupies the walls. The doctors and nurses look grim while talking to Vernon, Gladys is a pale shade of grey, and Elvis is standing right beside her bed, back facing me, grabbing her hands like it's his job to keep her here. I slowly walk up to him and tightly wrap my arms  around his waist. He lets go of Mama's hands and holds mine instead. The sudden change rouses her and she opens her eyes and looks at Elvis. He quickly unlaces himself from me and kneels down beside her. 

She looks him dead in the eyes and says, "That girl, right there," she pauses to point at me. "She's special. Now you treat her right, because she's important, and she cares for you like no one else does. She will treat you right, so I expect you to do the sa-" and with that she falls unconscious. 

"Mama! Mama! Please don't die! Please!" Elvis cries as we are ushered out of the room. When he gets into the hallway he collapses against the wall.

"Get up boy! You're causing a scene! This is no way for a grown man to act!" Vernon snaps and Elvis looks up at him, his eyes an ocean-blue turmoil. I know whatever is going to take place next is not going to be good.

"You don't get it Daddy! You never have! You didn't love her as much as I did! She was everything to me! My mama, my biggest supporter! There was no one who believed in me more than she did. She stuck by me until the end, she never mocked me, she never poked and prodded until I fell apart. She wanted me to succeed, and was willing to do anything to make it happen. So please, leave me alone!" And with that exclamation, he took off, getting away from his demons as soon as possible. And how do I know this, you may ask? Well, I've seen that look before. On myself.

I glance at Vernon and see him barely able to keep himself together. Instead of the horrible monster Elvis sees, I saw a man, struggling to keep himself together, and not knowing how to raise a boy with both love and instruction. I feel all the ice melt from my heart, and I take the few steps separating us and wrap him in much needed hug. I feel his shoulders shake as he breaks down. 

"I have been the worst father ever. And don't even try to console me" he adds as I open my mouth to protest. "I have been a terrible father, tearing my son down, degrading him, brushing him off as if he's nothing. The truth is, I'm scared for him. He never had a thick skin, and he let things get to him too easily. So I made it my mission to have him stand up for himself and not let anything get to him. But, in doing that, I lost the best friend a man will ever have. His son."