through the miles of predictable highway, soulful music filled the Escalade. As sad as it was, the blues guitar on the local radio station soothed me. I watched Elvis as he drove. He tapped lightly on the steering wheel, keeping with the beat. He had a smile on his face, but his eyes remained unreadable and shaded behind a pair of trendy aviators.
I was pondering what my heavenly job might be when my stomach interrupted with a thought of its own.
“When was the last time you ate?” Elvis turned toward me, but the dark tint kept his eyes hidden.
“Lunch time yesterday,”
Keeping his eyes on the road, he reached over and gently patted my hand. “I’m sorry. I forget about the basic needs some times.”
I’m sure God prefers it that way . I started to chuckle, but stopped when Elvis looked my way. I opened my mouth, ready to protest these constant mental intrusions, only to then clamp it shut. Why bother? I had never claimed to be a saint, but I had at least considered myself a lady. Modesty was proving to be difficult when my every thought was like an open book. My problem seemed hopeless. And I was about to give in when a solution as light as a feather, but with the impact of a brick, fell to mind. A devilish smile crept across my face.
One times one is one. Two times one is two. Three times one, is three, I beamed.
Slowly Elvis reached up and removed his glasses. “What are you up to, now?” His eyes narrowed.
“Trying to get through the one-sees,” I turned away and looked out the window. Four times one is four. Five times one is five .
‘Follow That Dream’ was my favorite of Elvis’ movies. As far as I was concerned, his role as the tender but dim witted Toby Kwimper was nothing short of comedic genius. In the movie Toby used his schooling, or lack of, to keep the girls away. The more aggravated the women became with his time-table ritual, the less likely they were to hang around, tempting him in to matrimony. Toby’s infuriating game was brilliant.
The concentrated look on Elvis’ face told me he was busy struggling to decipher the meaning of my sudden fascination with mathematics. My thoughts were truly mine. Privacy was bliss, and when his eyes flashed with an understanding, it was also fleeting.
“You never cease to amaze me, baby,” Elvis’ laughter skipped.
I could tell by the way he quickly clamped down his lips, and looked away, that he was trying not to outright laugh at me, but then unable to resist, he looked back, and started to laugh again. I tilted my sharp chin higher as our shiny white chariot crossed the Alabama state line.
When the next available exit presented itself Elvis did not pass it up. He eased the utility vehicle off the highway, and rolled up to the drive-in-window of a tiny white stucco building. The smell of grease turned my stomach, but I ordered anyway.
“Can we now just get a room?” I said while picking at the bread, completely lost in the gross-factor of my meal.
It took me a moment to realize that he hadn’t answered. And when I looked up, that Cheshire grin of his had me reaching for a napkin. What was on my face, mustard or mayonnaise? I wasn't sure, but I was whipping my lips when my understanding finally cracked like a whip.
“Oh! No, I-I didn’t mean I wanted a “room” with you,” I said, adding the insulting air quotations as if my blunder wasn’t embarrassing enough.
Elvis' eyes widened.
“No! I-I don’t mean you’re not desirable because, well, that’s just ridiculous.”
Smirking at me now, he just shook his head.
“Ah, never mind.” I waved him off. “I-I just need to shower to feel like a girl again, please.”
“Ok baby, we’ll stop so that you can uh,” he shot me a distractingly flirtatious grin, “become a woman.”
The tiny hairs on the back of my neck pricked.
***
“Would you and your father like one or two rooms?” The middle aged man asked from behind the counter.
Perplexed, I looked up from the
I was pondering what my heavenly job might be when my stomach interrupted with a thought of its own.
“When was the last time you ate?” Elvis turned toward me, but the dark tint kept his eyes hidden.
“Lunch time yesterday,”
Keeping his eyes on the road, he reached over and gently patted my hand. “I’m sorry. I forget about the basic needs some times.”
I’m sure God prefers it that way . I started to chuckle, but stopped when Elvis looked my way. I opened my mouth, ready to protest these constant mental intrusions, only to then clamp it shut. Why bother? I had never claimed to be a saint, but I had at least considered myself a lady. Modesty was proving to be difficult when my every thought was like an open book. My problem seemed hopeless. And I was about to give in when a solution as light as a feather, but with the impact of a brick, fell to mind. A devilish smile crept across my face.
One times one is one. Two times one is two. Three times one, is three, I beamed.
Slowly Elvis reached up and removed his glasses. “What are you up to, now?” His eyes narrowed.
“Trying to get through the one-sees,” I turned away and looked out the window. Four times one is four. Five times one is five .
‘Follow That Dream’ was my favorite of Elvis’ movies. As far as I was concerned, his role as the tender but dim witted Toby Kwimper was nothing short of comedic genius. In the movie Toby used his schooling, or lack of, to keep the girls away. The more aggravated the women became with his time-table ritual, the less likely they were to hang around, tempting him in to matrimony. Toby’s infuriating game was brilliant.
The concentrated look on Elvis’ face told me he was busy struggling to decipher the meaning of my sudden fascination with mathematics. My thoughts were truly mine. Privacy was bliss, and when his eyes flashed with an understanding, it was also fleeting.
“You never cease to amaze me, baby,” Elvis’ laughter skipped.
I could tell by the way he quickly clamped down his lips, and looked away, that he was trying not to outright laugh at me, but then unable to resist, he looked back, and started to laugh again. I tilted my sharp chin higher as our shiny white chariot crossed the Alabama state line.
When the next available exit presented itself Elvis did not pass it up. He eased the utility vehicle off the highway, and rolled up to the drive-in-window of a tiny white stucco building. The smell of grease turned my stomach, but I ordered anyway.
“Can we now just get a room?” I said while picking at the bread, completely lost in the gross-factor of my meal.
It took me a moment to realize that he hadn’t answered. And when I looked up, that Cheshire grin of his had me reaching for a napkin. What was on my face, mustard or mayonnaise? I wasn't sure, but I was whipping my lips when my understanding finally cracked like a whip.
“Oh! No, I-I didn’t mean I wanted a “room” with you,” I said, adding the insulting air quotations as if my blunder wasn’t embarrassing enough.
Elvis' eyes widened.
“No! I-I don’t mean you’re not desirable because, well, that’s just ridiculous.”
Smirking at me now, he just shook his head.
“Ah, never mind.” I waved him off. “I-I just need to shower to feel like a girl again, please.”
“Ok baby, we’ll stop so that you can uh,” he shot me a distractingly flirtatious grin, “become a woman.”
The tiny hairs on the back of my neck pricked.
***
“Would you and your father like one or two rooms?” The middle aged man asked from behind the counter.
Perplexed, I looked up from the
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