Forever Young, Always Beautiful (E.P)

Chapter 4 - At Ease, Solider!

Elvis’ face turned white, his eyes widened with fear. I grabbed the letter from his hands and read through myself. “Drafted? You can’t have been drafted!” I exclaimed. The letter was from the government and US Army, requesting Elvis’ presence on sign up day. I say request, but there was no suggestion in the tone of that letter; there was only a command. Elvis had to be there; he had no choice or say in the matter. Gladys sat nearby, her face buried in her hands. Her sobs filled the room and Elvis looked heartbroken as he gazed over at her. Vernon rubbed her back soothingly, but it did nothing to calm her. “Annie, darlin’? Sit with Elvis, will ya? Boy looks like he’s seen a ghost.” Vernon asked me. Like I needed to be told; I shot across the room and put my arm around Elvis. He grabbed my hand where it rested on his waist, intertwining his fingers with mine. I knew this was a sign he was scared. It was something we’d done since we were young. We were both too headstrong to admit when we were terrified, so we simply intertwined our fingers and held onto each other. We’d sat that way for hours once, when my grandmother was diagnosed with cancer. She was my whole world and I was so distraught. Elvis didn’t need me to say it out loud; he knew simply by instinct that I was terrified I’d lose her. So he grabbed my hand and we just sat, letting the hours roll by, until we both fell asleep.

As the days went by, Elvis became calmer about the idea of going into the army. I wouldn’t say thrilled is the right word, but he no longer stomped around the house, angry at the world. A few months previous to the drafting, Elvis and his parents had moved in their new home: Graceland. Graceland was a gorgeous mansion just south of down town Memphis, surround with just enough acres of land to give the newly crowned King of Rock and Roll some kind of privacy. Gladys had loved the house when they first moved in, but now the thought of living there while Elvis was out on ‘life threatening missions’ was playing mind games with her. You see, Gladys’ side of the family mainly consisted of alcoholics. In fact, a lot of Vernon’s relatives had sacrum to liver damage and early death because they liked the bottle far too much as well. This was Elvis main reason for remaining T-Total until the last 10-15 years of his life. It was around this time that Gladys started drinking. Elvis didn’t see it, as she kept it hidden from him. Even Vernon didn’t see the extent of it. But I knew. But I didn’t dare confront her. For all of her sweetness and love for the people around her, myself included, she wasn’t afraid to bite back when she was told something she didn’t want to hear. And then the inevitable happened. Elvis was training at Fort Hood in Texas, when he got the news that his beloved mother was on her deathbed. I was sent from Graceland to collect him; his girlfriend at the time, Anita Wood, was deemed too emotional to go herself. I had never been sure of what I thought of Anita, and I believe she felt the same towards me. I thought she was nice enough, and she made Elvis happy, but she needed to get a grip and face reality. So I arrived at Fort Hood on the 8th of August, and together, Elvis and I took the train back to Memphis. We arrived on the 12th, and Gladys died two days later. I had been sat outside her bedroom when I heard the screams. Elvis’ screams. They were like nothing I’d ever heard before. So heart wrenching that I almost thought he’d been shot. His cousin, Patsy, came out to see me, her cheeks stained with the makeup that run with her tears. “She’s not?” I asked, clutching my stomach so I wouldn’t punch a wall. Patsy nodded and burst into tears. I stumbled past her, standing in the doorway of Gladys’ room. I looked, heartbroken, at Gladys’ lifeless body. She would have looked so peaceful, if Elvis hadn’t been clawing onto her, begging her to come back. Vernon was sat nearby, silently crying. I just stood, staring, not knowing what to say or do. After a few minutes, Vernon rose from his seat and walked over to me. “Help him. Please?” He whispered to me as he brushed past. I heard him cry out when he thought he was far enough away. Though Vernon’s pain was heartbreaking for me, it snapped me back into reality. I closed the door behind me and began the process of pulling Elvis away from his mother’s body.

He twisted out of my grasp and lashed out at me, refusing to leave her. It eventually became too much for both of us. We started screaming at each other, both of us refusing to back down. “Is this what you think your momma would have wanted? To see us like this, and not even an hour after she departed?” I asked him. He went quiet, refusing to answer. He was always stubborn and never backed down, but he knew I was right. He knew how much Gladys had cared for me and he knew she’d have hated to see us like that. “Don’t you think I understand how this feels? I lost my grandmother and you know she was more like a mother to me! You of all people know how badly I was hurt when she left me. So don’t you dare yell at me and tell me I don’t have the right to stand here and tell you what you need to hear. Because you’re a damn fool if you think I’m gonna let you turn into a bitter and twisted human being.” Elvis took a deep breath and stood up, his hand keeping a firm grip on his mother’s. “I’m not telling you to get over it, because you can’t. You are allowed to grieve; I won’t take that away from you. But for God’s sake, Elvis; have a little dignity. Your momma wouldn’t want you to get yourself in such a state.” Eventually Elvis spoke to me again. Two days had passed since Gladys’ death and I came to visit him. He immediately pulled me in for a hug and gave the line of my jaw a kiss. “You were right. I’m sorry.” He whispered. I ran my finger through his hair as he cried, no longer caring if I won the fight.