My Little Friend

Chapter 1

August 12, 1958

He prayed to God all the way back to Memphis.

Please don't take, Mama, Lord. Not yet. Let her stay around to see me get married. Let her meet her grandchildren. Let me tell her how much she means to me. Let her live to see me make it out of the army. You'll have her forever someday. Please just let me have her a few more years. I still need her so.

The Lord answered every prayer, but sometimes the answer was no. But it couldn't be this time. A life so precious couldn't be cut short like this.

Not too long ago, everything had been going as possible given the situation. He was in Texas, waiting for the army to give him his orders to ship out. He already knew that he was going to Germany rather than some war zone. But for now, they rented a house in Texas and he brought along Red, Lamar, his parents and his grandmother to stay with him. His girlfriend, Georgia, happened to live in Texas, which meant that they were able to spend plenty of time with each other.

Then, his mother got sick. He sent them back to Memphis, where she was hospitalized. At first, they said that there was no need to send for him. But they'd changed there mind. His mother was lucid enough to demand that he didn't fly, but Elvis found himself regretting that he did not. It took so much longer to get there by train.

He should have insisted that Mama and Daddy stay at Graceland. He should have made sure that she saw a doctor before she did. All of the 'what if's' made his head spin.

Nothing in the world could have prepared him for the sight of his beloved mother in that hospital bed. Her face was as pale and still as the sheets. She didn't even look like his mama. His daddy looked like nothing but a shell of the man he knew. He had dark circles under his eyes and his hair looked grayer than Elvis remembered it being the last time he had seen the man. He aged at least five years in a matter of less than a week.

Elvis polished his shoes and fussed over his uniform until it was perfect before he came. Stupid stuff. None of it mattered even the slightest bit now that his stomach clenched and his knees buckled. He sunk into the chair beside his father, too stunned to even cry.

"Mama?"

The voice sounded strange in his head. Like it wasn't coming out of his mouth. Vernon stood beside him, somber expression in place. Elvis tried his best to push down the tears, to swallow past the lump in his throat. His trembling hand reached for his mothers. It was warm to the touch. Almost comforting, reassuring. It let him know that there was still some life in her.

Elvis knew what she was thinking, for such was their connection. "I didn't go awol, Mama. They let me go so I could come see you. We thought that you'd die." Elvis felt his throat, tight with tears, beginning to close up.

He wasn't aware of the tears that slipped down his face until his mother reached up to wipe them. "No," Gladys breathed.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. It seemed as though the room was getting smaller with every passing second. Something compelled him to leave but he simultaneously wanted to stay there forever, to watch over her for every minute of the day until she was in the clear. But the former won out and Elvis bolted out of the room, muttering something about having to use the bathroom to his father. If Vernon responded in any way, Elvis had missed it. Elvis walked up and down the halls with no destination in mind, hoping that the movement would help him calm down. It just intensified the restlessness and hopelessness inside him.

At the very end of the hall was a dark, windowless corner. A gurney had been pushed up against the wall. Elvis would have moved on if it hadn't been for the strange sound that crept into his ears. It sounded like someone was crying. Elvis bent down to look under the gurney. Huddled there was a little girl. She was curled up so tightly, she roughly resembled an oddly shaped pretzel. Her entire body shook every time she let out a muffled sob. Elvis was overcome by sympathy for the poor thing.