Part 22 (2/2)

I took the paper inside and found Mother in the living room. She was wearing her terry-cloth robe and kneeling before the alb.u.m rack. Her copies ofThe Sun Sessions, Elvis Is Back!, andElvis-TV Special lay on the carpet beside her.

”The station got rid of a lot of records last year,” she said, ”so I thought I'd take some of ours, just for today. The disc jockeys will want them.”

”Good idea,” I said. I lay the paper on the coffee table and left for the fields.

All through the hot day, the guys and I listened to the radio that was hung over the truck's outside mirror.

On every station we tuned in, even the country ones, we heard Elvis; but only KKAP was playing the really good stuff, the stuff he'd recorded in the days before the high-collared, jeweled jumpsuits... back when he was Elvis the Pelvis, every boy's s.e.xual role model and every girl's fantasy.

”If I hear 'Love Me Tender' one more time I'm gonna puke,” someone said.

That evening, Cheryl called. ”I've been thinking about this Sat.u.r.day,” she said. Her voice dripped with promise. ”I've been thinking about it so much that I can't wait until then. I know it's late and you've been working, but... let's go for a drive.”

I had been tired, but Cheryl's voice revitalized me. I said that I would pick her up in ten minutes, and then I ran to my room for my car keys and a couple of Peac.o.c.ks.

”Mother!” I yelled as I charged back through the house. ”I'm going out!” I had my hand on the k.n.o.b of the front door before I realized that there had been no answer. Mother always answered. I yelled again, and still there was no answer, so I looked for her. She wasn't in the house, but her '74 Nova was still in the garage.

I found her in the backyard. She was sitting on the ground and gazing up at the just-emerged stars.

”You're going to get chiggers,” I said.

She remained silent.

”Mother, Cheryl called. We're going for a drive.”

Still she said nothing.

I glanced up at the patch of sky she seemed to be gazing at. ”What are you looking for?”

”Elvis.”

”No such constellation.” I was trying to joke. But of course she was serious.

”When Buddy died,” she said, as if I had not spoken, ”Elvis was in the Army. In Germany. He sent a telegram of sympathy to the Holleys, in Lubbock. He'd been on the road a lot too, and he knew that it could have been him.”

I turned to go. Cheryl was waiting.

”Elvis played in Lubbock more than once in his early days,” Mother said. ”He met Buddy before Buddy became a star. Buddy was encouraged and inspired by him. They were so different, and so much alike.

Elvis sent the telegram from Germany, knowing what had been lost. So I'm looking for him in the sky now, to wave good-bye. He'll appear like a shooting star in reverse. I would have seen Buddy's star too, but it was cloudy that night.”

Cheryl was waiting. I turned back and sat down a few yards away from Mother.

”Elvis's star would have appeared yesterday, wouldn't it?” I asked.

”No. A man like Elvis would wait a day, to be sure he was really supposed to go.”

We waited and watched. Soon, we saw a meteor.

”There,” I said. ”We should go in before the chiggers eat us alive.”

”That wasn't him. It fell. Elvis will be going the other way.”

Another meteor fell then, and another, and another. Later, I discovered that they were the stragglers of the annual Perseid shower, but Mother had another explanation. ”Ancient Atlanteans,” she said. ”They're flying down to show Elvis the way.”

Chiggers were chewing my ankles, mosquitoes biting my arms and neck. In Topeka, a suntanned girl waited to make love to me, and I was sitting in the backyard, staying with my lunatic mother until her crisis pa.s.sed. I had the bitter thought that her crisis would never pa.s.s until she herself flew up to join Elvis and Buddy, so I might as well take off. Then I hated myself for thinking that, and I knew that I wouldn'tbudge. Not even to telephone Cheryl and tell her that I couldn't make it.

Hours later, we saw Elvis leave the planet. He was a ball of orange light with flickers of blue that shot up from the southeastern horizon-from Memphis-and disappeared near the zenith. I had never seen anything like it.

Mother waved.

We went inside then. After Mother went to bed, I sat in the kitchen for another hour, staring at the phone. I hadn't heard it ring while I had been in the yard. Cheryl hadn't called to ask where I was, and I couldn't call her now because it was 2:00 A.M. and her parents would throw a s.h.i.+t fit. In three and a half hours I would have to leave for the fields, and it would still be too early to call. I wouldn't have a chance to explain until evening.

And what explanation would I give? That I had preferred sitting in chigger-infested gra.s.s to thras.h.i.+ng in a back seat with Cheryl? That I had turned my back on carnal nirvana to watch for the ghost of Elvis?

Thursday dragged on for months, but when it was over, the summer was over too. We cleared our last field, and at 9:45 P.M. I threw the last bale from the truck to my buddies in the hay shed. Our boss told us to come by his place Friday or Sat.u.r.day, and he'd give us our final checks.

I didn't care about that. All I cared about was getting home and calling Cheryl before it was too late.

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