Post by The Eternal Optimist on Dec 1, 2005 1:21:05 GMT -5
ELVIS’ STORY
(Rough Draft)
“I am sorry to hear about your mother. You are going to live with your uncle. I am sorry for your loss. You are going to love living with your uncle.” These words ran through Elvis’ head as she sat there listening to her mother’s funeral. A week ago she would never have thought that her mother would be dead. Elvis thought back to that day when she was at school. How she was called to the office in the middle of class. Then being told that her mother had died in a car crash. She didn’t cry. Just sat there. Her grandma sat down next to her. You’re going to be okay.” Her words didn’t help. Elvis wanted her mother. “Elvis its gong to be okay. Your mother wouldn’t want to see you so sad,” she told her, arm around her.
“I am okay grandma,’ Elvis answered.
Now Elvis was sitting in a taxi being taken to the airport for a flight to San Francisco. It felt like some bad dream. Her mother gone, and her only family some uncle who was her mother’s only brother, whom she had met on once when she was five years old. The taxi drove her to an apartment building. It had the queer look of something out of the Edward Scissorhands movie. She imagined some dude with scissors for hand living on the top floor. Elvis walked up the stairs carrying her bags. “Everybody loves Elvis, so they’ll love you!” Her mom would say when she got nervous. Only she was not nervous, she just wanted to go home…not that that existed anymore.
Meanwhile her uncle was on the make. He was making out with some blonde. Elvis opened the door and saw them. She laughed inside. Sat down. “Well this is a nice welcome,” she said aloud. Her uncle stopped and got up and adjusted himself.
“I thought that you would be here Monday,” Uncle Ray said.
“I am gonna go now,” she said, walking out the door. “Well Uncle Ray where is my room?”
“First learn to knock,” he snapped, “and this way.”
“Yeah, and you learn to keep your tongue out of other people’s mouths,” she thought to herself.
He led her down the hall to her room. It was nothing special. Two dressers, a desk and a queen size bed. A TV and DVD player. “Thank you,” she answered walking by him.
“You hungry?” Ray asked.
“No” she answered. Elvis was left alone. “This is not my room,” Elvis whispered out loud to herself. She unpacked her stuff. “Why me!!!” again out loud she mumbled. Elvis looked at a picture of her mother. Ray stood in the doorway.
“Look, I have to go shopping,. So get up and let’s go,” he said.
“Fine” she said. The thought about pinching his car keys and heading out. But to where? Plus her learner’s permit was to drive with a twenty five year or older person. Plus, what would she want with a car straight out of Starsky and Hutch?
“Get in,” Ray said.
“Aren’t’ you even going to open the door?” she said. She didn’t quite like this guy at all. He looked like a sad version of Johnny Depp in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, same pale skin with messy short cut hair.
Elvis turned the radio to Garbage only, “I Am Only Happy When It Rains,” it seemed to fit her mood.
“You like this depressing stuff?” Ray asked backing out of the driveway.
“Yeah,” Elvis answered. “Now let me ask you something, do you always have girls who look younger than me over??” she asked, wanting to hear some stupid answer like “no,” or “we were just talking.”
“No, and we’re here,” he answered, getting out of the car. Elvis followed.
“What a stupid answer,” Elvis said to herself. Elvis knew the whole deal. Her father was the same way. Always running away and scamming for women. Ray looked at Elvis for a moment. She looked like his sister. Long brown hair, and dark blue eyes, fabulous build. When his sister died he didn’t grieve, he just moved on. “What,” Elvis snapped, grabbing a shopping cart.
Ray rolled his eyes. “Elvis, let’s go,” he yelled. In the store Ray grabbed beer and the latest edition of Playboy. Then headed to the now obligatory veggies aisle with Elvis slinking behind.
“So are we buying for you or someone with a teenager?” Elvis said.
“Grab some fruit and vegetables,” Ray answered making a face. “Pick out some fruit,” Ray snapped. He realized her mother was dead but this kid was really bugging him. When they got home a woman by the name of Sandy was waiting in the apartment with dinner ready for Ray. “Sandy!” Ray exclaimed, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
“Hello,” Elvis managed, smiling evilly.
“Hold on,” he said, following Elvis into the kitchen. “Look, whey don’t you go and see a movie?” Ray said, handing her a twenty dollar bill.
“Uncle Ray I think that I’ll stay here,” Elvis said, once again smiling evilly.
“You have been her only one day and already you are bugging me kid,” Ray snapped.
“You aren’t exactly the welcome mat,” Elvis yelled. “Having some woman over every time I come in,” she snapped.
“What, you come to my house and I am supposed to be a sweet celibate?” Ray yelled. Elvis ran into her room. Elvis was sitting on her bed and Ray joined her sitting down beside her. He put his arm around her. “I am sorry,” he whispered. He kissed the top of her head and then started to leave the room.
“Ray,” Elvis answered, “What I…, I’m sorry,” Elvis said.
Before anything further was said, “Thank you,” he answered.
The next day Ray awoke to a knock on the door. “Hello,” Ray said, trying to stay awake.
“Ray, I heard that your niece Elvis is here,” the old woman at the door said. She was a short woman in a plain black dress, and her gray hair was up in a bun.
“Yes, she arrived yesterday,” he answered.
The woman swept past him and headed to the kitchen. “Mrs. Goldman, why don’t you come back later?” Ray inquired.
“Oh no, and leave you with such a dirty kitchen, no,” she answered, begging to grab a broom and clean.
“Going for the older type?” Elvis laughed.
“NO!” Ray snapped, downing his coffee at a furious pace.
“Oh, you must be Elvis. I am Mrs. Goldman, I live down the hall,” she offered her hand for a more formal greeting.
“Elvis get dressed,” Ray said, continuing to chug coffee.
Dressing in her room, Elvis put on her pink Elvis Presley shirt and her black Dickies and black Converse. She put her brown hair up with a fake hair attachment, purple and long braided. Elvis was pretty. “Oh gosh you look like your mom,” Ray said admiring Elvis as she returned to the kitchen
“That’s a bad thing,” Elvis snapped.
“You’re going to school today.” Ray said, getting his car keys. “Your stuff is in the car” he yelled as he grabbed a clean shirt to wear..
“Well it was nice meeting you,” Elvis waved to Mrs. Goldman.
“Look, I’ve got you pens, pencils, and ringbooks with dividers and punched paper,” Rays said backing out of the driveway.
“Nice black backpack, but a pink ring binder??” Elvis felt like barfing up. ‘The lady at the store said young girls like pink’’ he answered turning the corner toward what looked to be a high school. Elvis looked out at the building it looked normal enough. Ray opened the door for her Elvis sat there thinking he was crazy. Yeah right I live here am not going to school here. She thought to herself. ‘Come on’’ he said holding the door open. ‘No’’ she said closing the door. Ray tried to open it but Elvis had locked it. ‘Please’’ he said pleading with her. ‘Hell the smeep no!’’ Elvis snapped ‘watch your mouth and you are getting out of this car and going to school’’ he yelled now pulling the door open. ‘What part of no do you not understand, oh I am sorry you never heard no before’’ she yelled closing the door.
“Twenty dollars and you get out of the car’’ ray said waving a 20.00 bill in front of Elvis. “Fine” she said getting out. Elvis followed Ray into the school. She looked around the place reminded her of Pink Floyd and the Wall. “ you most be Elvis Anderson’’ a woman said shaking her hand she was tall black hair put in a bun wearing thick black glasses and a suit. “ I am Ms. Masters the prinpcal here at San Francisco high’’ she said “I am Elvis’s Uncle Ray Anderson’’ Ray replied shaking her hand. She was no older than Ray 29 and Ray was checking her out. Elvis made a face and quickly followed Ms. Masters into her office. “ here at SFHS we have high standards and are very proud of our students our staff is caring and love teaching’’ she said handing Ray some papers to fill out and Elvis a list of her classes.
“ I am sure Anne will love it here” Ms. Masters said “ it’s Elvis no one has called me Anne since I was six years old’’ Elvis said “ I am sorry Elvis’’ she corrected herself Ray laughed giving Ms. Masters the papers. “ shut up Ranold’’ she snapped “ hey we never speak of that name’’ he said “ okay Ranold’’ she laughed “ well why don’t I show you all around” Ms. Masters answered quickly changing the subject. They followed her to the quad there were kids every where. Ray’s cell rang it was his work. He saw it as a great way to get out having to listen to Ms. Masters. “ hello Ray here’’ he said it was Mr. Wilmore his boss. “ where are you the Jameson meeting is
(Rough Draft)
“I am sorry to hear about your mother. You are going to live with your uncle. I am sorry for your loss. You are going to love living with your uncle.” These words ran through Elvis’ head as she sat there listening to her mother’s funeral. A week ago she would never have thought that her mother would be dead. Elvis thought back to that day when she was at school. How she was called to the office in the middle of class. Then being told that her mother had died in a car crash. She didn’t cry. Just sat there. Her grandma sat down next to her. You’re going to be okay.” Her words didn’t help. Elvis wanted her mother. “Elvis its gong to be okay. Your mother wouldn’t want to see you so sad,” she told her, arm around her.
“I am okay grandma,’ Elvis answered.
Now Elvis was sitting in a taxi being taken to the airport for a flight to San Francisco. It felt like some bad dream. Her mother gone, and her only family some uncle who was her mother’s only brother, whom she had met on once when she was five years old. The taxi drove her to an apartment building. It had the queer look of something out of the Edward Scissorhands movie. She imagined some dude with scissors for hand living on the top floor. Elvis walked up the stairs carrying her bags. “Everybody loves Elvis, so they’ll love you!” Her mom would say when she got nervous. Only she was not nervous, she just wanted to go home…not that that existed anymore.
Meanwhile her uncle was on the make. He was making out with some blonde. Elvis opened the door and saw them. She laughed inside. Sat down. “Well this is a nice welcome,” she said aloud. Her uncle stopped and got up and adjusted himself.
“I thought that you would be here Monday,” Uncle Ray said.
“I am gonna go now,” she said, walking out the door. “Well Uncle Ray where is my room?”
“First learn to knock,” he snapped, “and this way.”
“Yeah, and you learn to keep your tongue out of other people’s mouths,” she thought to herself.
He led her down the hall to her room. It was nothing special. Two dressers, a desk and a queen size bed. A TV and DVD player. “Thank you,” she answered walking by him.
“You hungry?” Ray asked.
“No” she answered. Elvis was left alone. “This is not my room,” Elvis whispered out loud to herself. She unpacked her stuff. “Why me!!!” again out loud she mumbled. Elvis looked at a picture of her mother. Ray stood in the doorway.
“Look, I have to go shopping,. So get up and let’s go,” he said.
“Fine” she said. The thought about pinching his car keys and heading out. But to where? Plus her learner’s permit was to drive with a twenty five year or older person. Plus, what would she want with a car straight out of Starsky and Hutch?
“Get in,” Ray said.
“Aren’t’ you even going to open the door?” she said. She didn’t quite like this guy at all. He looked like a sad version of Johnny Depp in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, same pale skin with messy short cut hair.
Elvis turned the radio to Garbage only, “I Am Only Happy When It Rains,” it seemed to fit her mood.
“You like this depressing stuff?” Ray asked backing out of the driveway.
“Yeah,” Elvis answered. “Now let me ask you something, do you always have girls who look younger than me over??” she asked, wanting to hear some stupid answer like “no,” or “we were just talking.”
“No, and we’re here,” he answered, getting out of the car. Elvis followed.
“What a stupid answer,” Elvis said to herself. Elvis knew the whole deal. Her father was the same way. Always running away and scamming for women. Ray looked at Elvis for a moment. She looked like his sister. Long brown hair, and dark blue eyes, fabulous build. When his sister died he didn’t grieve, he just moved on. “What,” Elvis snapped, grabbing a shopping cart.
Ray rolled his eyes. “Elvis, let’s go,” he yelled. In the store Ray grabbed beer and the latest edition of Playboy. Then headed to the now obligatory veggies aisle with Elvis slinking behind.
“So are we buying for you or someone with a teenager?” Elvis said.
“Grab some fruit and vegetables,” Ray answered making a face. “Pick out some fruit,” Ray snapped. He realized her mother was dead but this kid was really bugging him. When they got home a woman by the name of Sandy was waiting in the apartment with dinner ready for Ray. “Sandy!” Ray exclaimed, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
“Hello,” Elvis managed, smiling evilly.
“Hold on,” he said, following Elvis into the kitchen. “Look, whey don’t you go and see a movie?” Ray said, handing her a twenty dollar bill.
“Uncle Ray I think that I’ll stay here,” Elvis said, once again smiling evilly.
“You have been her only one day and already you are bugging me kid,” Ray snapped.
“You aren’t exactly the welcome mat,” Elvis yelled. “Having some woman over every time I come in,” she snapped.
“What, you come to my house and I am supposed to be a sweet celibate?” Ray yelled. Elvis ran into her room. Elvis was sitting on her bed and Ray joined her sitting down beside her. He put his arm around her. “I am sorry,” he whispered. He kissed the top of her head and then started to leave the room.
“Ray,” Elvis answered, “What I…, I’m sorry,” Elvis said.
Before anything further was said, “Thank you,” he answered.
The next day Ray awoke to a knock on the door. “Hello,” Ray said, trying to stay awake.
“Ray, I heard that your niece Elvis is here,” the old woman at the door said. She was a short woman in a plain black dress, and her gray hair was up in a bun.
“Yes, she arrived yesterday,” he answered.
The woman swept past him and headed to the kitchen. “Mrs. Goldman, why don’t you come back later?” Ray inquired.
“Oh no, and leave you with such a dirty kitchen, no,” she answered, begging to grab a broom and clean.
“Going for the older type?” Elvis laughed.
“NO!” Ray snapped, downing his coffee at a furious pace.
“Oh, you must be Elvis. I am Mrs. Goldman, I live down the hall,” she offered her hand for a more formal greeting.
“Elvis get dressed,” Ray said, continuing to chug coffee.
Dressing in her room, Elvis put on her pink Elvis Presley shirt and her black Dickies and black Converse. She put her brown hair up with a fake hair attachment, purple and long braided. Elvis was pretty. “Oh gosh you look like your mom,” Ray said admiring Elvis as she returned to the kitchen
“That’s a bad thing,” Elvis snapped.
“You’re going to school today.” Ray said, getting his car keys. “Your stuff is in the car” he yelled as he grabbed a clean shirt to wear..
“Well it was nice meeting you,” Elvis waved to Mrs. Goldman.
“Look, I’ve got you pens, pencils, and ringbooks with dividers and punched paper,” Rays said backing out of the driveway.
“Nice black backpack, but a pink ring binder??” Elvis felt like barfing up. ‘The lady at the store said young girls like pink’’ he answered turning the corner toward what looked to be a high school. Elvis looked out at the building it looked normal enough. Ray opened the door for her Elvis sat there thinking he was crazy. Yeah right I live here am not going to school here. She thought to herself. ‘Come on’’ he said holding the door open. ‘No’’ she said closing the door. Ray tried to open it but Elvis had locked it. ‘Please’’ he said pleading with her. ‘Hell the smeep no!’’ Elvis snapped ‘watch your mouth and you are getting out of this car and going to school’’ he yelled now pulling the door open. ‘What part of no do you not understand, oh I am sorry you never heard no before’’ she yelled closing the door.
“Twenty dollars and you get out of the car’’ ray said waving a 20.00 bill in front of Elvis. “Fine” she said getting out. Elvis followed Ray into the school. She looked around the place reminded her of Pink Floyd and the Wall. “ you most be Elvis Anderson’’ a woman said shaking her hand she was tall black hair put in a bun wearing thick black glasses and a suit. “ I am Ms. Masters the prinpcal here at San Francisco high’’ she said “I am Elvis’s Uncle Ray Anderson’’ Ray replied shaking her hand. She was no older than Ray 29 and Ray was checking her out. Elvis made a face and quickly followed Ms. Masters into her office. “ here at SFHS we have high standards and are very proud of our students our staff is caring and love teaching’’ she said handing Ray some papers to fill out and Elvis a list of her classes.
“ I am sure Anne will love it here” Ms. Masters said “ it’s Elvis no one has called me Anne since I was six years old’’ Elvis said “ I am sorry Elvis’’ she corrected herself Ray laughed giving Ms. Masters the papers. “ shut up Ranold’’ she snapped “ hey we never speak of that name’’ he said “ okay Ranold’’ she laughed “ well why don’t I show you all around” Ms. Masters answered quickly changing the subject. They followed her to the quad there were kids every where. Ray’s cell rang it was his work. He saw it as a great way to get out having to listen to Ms. Masters. “ hello Ray here’’ he said it was Mr. Wilmore his boss. “ where are you the Jameson meeting is
