Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On

As the storm raged and the hour grew late the streets of the city were deserted. The lightening was flashing at an increasing rate to the point where the streetlights had become superfluous. In the small park opposite the café a mighty bolt hit smack in the center and an eerie glow suffused the trees and surrounding grounds. It pulsed at an ever-decreasing rate until darkness descended once again.

The lone waitress at the café had been staring out the window at the furious light show and saw the bolt that hit the park. She had an uneasy feeling and was about to mention it to the cook when he poked his head out of the serving window.

“Lurlene, get yer butt back to cleanin’, I want to get out of here on time tonight.”

She stared at the park for a moment longer then picked up her cleaning rag and set to work.

………………..

Elvis sat up and rubbed the top of his head and looked around. Man, what a night. The rain was coming down in sheets and the lightening flashes were a sight to behold. He looked at the guitar next to him on the ground and recognized it right away. He smiled and picked it up and then stood and surveyed his surroundings. He had no idea what he was doing out in this weather but he reckoned he’d better get on home and get into some dry clothes.

He headed down Beale and reached the gates only to find them locked and the house dark. He reached for his pocket to fetch his keys but found he didn’t have any. Perplexed, he started walking, unsure what he should do. He spotted a service station across the way and headed over to it.

The pimply-faced youth at the counter drooling over the latest copy of Hustler glanced out the window as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He wondered who’d be out in a raging storm this late and a scream caught in his throat at the sight of the figure approaching. He wondered if he was having a flashback but didn’t stick around to figure it out. He ran out the back door of the station into the storm leaving the business unattended.

Elvis stood and stared at the scene. Now what the hell had gotten into that kid? He shook his head and then ducked through the doors and grabbed a box of jelly donuts and headed to the cooler for some chocolate milk. He would come back tomorrow and pay. Right now he was hungry.

He wandered down the street munching his donuts and swigging from his half-gallon container of chocolate milk, oblivious to the rain now. He turned a corner and saw headlights coming toward him. As the car got closer it suddenly veered across the road and crashed into a lamppost.

Elvis stood and stared as the driver tumbled out of the door and stood up gawking at him. He pointed and seemed to be trying to say something, then turned and ran off into the night.

Shaking his head Elvis continued along the street, turning to look back at the car. Sure is a waste of a fine Cadillac he thought. He continued on and turned onto Main, still not sure what he should do and confused about the way folks were reacting to him.

As he came back to Beale and turned the corner back to the park the waitress at the café opposite looked up from her cleaning. Her eyes went wide and she dropped her rag.

“Earl? You know that big ‘ol statue of Elvis in the park across the street?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“I think you better come out here right now.”

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