Hope and Undead Elvis (35 page)

The fire truck bumped over the curb and Duce steered it toward the Casino lot's exit.

"Should we go after him?" someone asked.

"No," said the man who'd greeted Hope. "We've got a lot of work to do here, and can't spare anyone to chase that asshole."

Hope looked up at Undead Elvis. "Can you do anything to help my father? He's dying, Elvis."

"I can take him with me, Li'l lady. It will ease his passing. But if I go with him, I can't go with you."

Hope bowed her head. Somehow, she'd known this choice was always going to be hers to make in the end. Her baby moved in her belly, unhappy at how he was being crushed against Hope's dying father. "How will I know the right way to Graceland?"

Undead Elvis gave her his best half-smile. "You'll know, Li'l lady. You've always known."

Hope swallowed a lump in her throat. "Will I ever see you again?"

"Ever is a long time." Undead Elvis hunkered down next to Hope to regard Shades.

Shades coughed. "Nice… sunglasses. They fit you."

"Sir, my name's Elvis, and I'd be honored if you'd walk with me."

Hope watched as wonderment mixed with the pain on her father's face, transforming it into an expression of peacefulness. "Are you… the father?"

"No, sir, I'm not. I've just been accompanying your daughter, and a fine young woman she is. Come, let me tell you about her." Undead Elvis helped Shades to stand. He wobbled from the wound in his torso and blood ran from it to soak his jeans. And yet, he seemed to draw strength from the singer's presence. He let Undead Elvis put an arm around his waist to help support him.

Shades looked down at Hope. She could see herself reflected in his sunglasses as well as those on Undead Elvis. Her reflection looked so sad that she wished she could reach out to give herself a comforting hug. "I love you, Li'l lady. You'll be a wonderful mother."

"I l-love you too, Daddy. And you too, Elvis. I'll miss you."

Undead Elvis smiled at her, his teeth sparkling in his bluish complexion. "Just because we're not right beside you doesn't mean we won't be with you, Li'l lady." He gave her his best Army salute.

Josh helped Hope to her feet. He still had Margaret's blood on his hands, but Hope didn't care. She needed the physical contact and closeness more than anything. They watched as Shades and Undead Elvis walked slowly off into the snow-covered fields.

They left no footprints.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Hope and Graceland

Josh had to drive the rest of the way to Graceland, because Hope was too distraught from the emotional turmoil of the Casino, and she was starting to have contractions with alarming regularity.

As The Way ate up the miles of drying highway, Hope leaned back as far as she could and focused on her baby. Don't come yet. Not before Graceland. Fidel rested his head on her knee and looked up into her face with his worried, soulful eyes.

Whenever Josh came to an interchange, he asked Hope which way to go. She would tell him without hesitating, letting her heart guide them. Once they finally left the highway in favor of back roads, they did the same at intersections. As they drew closer to their destination, the snow faded from the surrounding landscape to be replaced by fields of tall grasses waving in the gentle breeze. Flowers peppered the sea of green with bright splashes of colors. The back roads often wound through lush forests. It was as if the very seasons were changing as they approached Graceland.

Hope could only appreciate the beauty at the most marginal level, for the pain of her contractions was absorbing most of her ability to think clearly. "I hope… we make it there," she said after getting rocked by a particularly strong one.

"We will," said Josh. "It can't be much further, although I don't know how we'll find it in the dark." He'd already turned on the headlights as they wound through a forest.

The Way emerged from the trees onto a bridge over the silvery expanse of the largest river Hope had ever seen, or even imagined. Starlight reflected off the gentle currents, making it seem as if The Way was flying through space instead of driving. "It's beautiful," said Hope.

"It's the Mississippi," said Josh. "We're close now. How are you doing?"

Hope squeezed his hand as another contraction hit her. "He's coming tonight, I'm sure of it."

Josh nodded, watching the road. "I hope to God you're right about Graceland being a safe place."

"It is."

After what felt like eternity to Hope, they finished crossing the river. Even Fidel could sense that something important was coming, for he sat up straight between Josh and Hope, watching through the windshield with his ears perked up. He yipped at something and whined, pawing the dashboard. "You think he needs a pee break? I could use one," said Josh. "How about you?"

"No, not just yet. Look." Hope pointed through the cracked glass.

A bright light lay ahead, too low to be a star, even though it flickered like one. It had to be a lamp of some sort, the first they'd seen since the Casino.

"Is that it?"

Hope smiled. "That's it, and they're waiting for us."

"How do you know?"

"They lit a beacon."

"You think your Undead Elvis fellow is there already?"

"Maybe," said Hope, although deep down she knew he wouldn't be.

The rest of Memphis was gone. Perhaps it had been swallowed by the Earth as so many other things had been. The only sign of any human construction at all was the road, and even then there were no longer any side roads branching from it. "All roads lead to Graceland," said Josh. "Look, they've got a windmill."

Someone had built a tall wooden windmill, painted it white, and put a bright spotlight on top of it. The blades turned slowly in the nighttime breeze, causing the flickering they'd seen on their approach. The mansion itself looked to be in good repair. Candlelight flickered in the windows and wood smoke with a comforting scent billowed from the chimneys. Hope could see well-manicured landscaping in the near-darkness.

A half dozen vehicles were parked in the circular drive in front of the building, including a battered Checker cab, a minivan, and a rusting '70s-era Chrysler. "Don't see any guards," said Josh. "I hope this isn't a trap or something."

Hope squealed at a strong contraction. "No," she gasped. "Please, help me inside."

Josh parked The Way. Chill air flooded the car as he opened the door, proving without question that winter wasn't yet finished with this part of the world.

The front door of the mansion opened and an older man with a white beard emerged. He carried no weapons, only a lantern. "Evenin'," he said in a gentlemanly Southern accent. "Y'all need a place to stay?"

"Yes, please," said Josh. "And my, my friend needs help. She's going to have a baby."

Hope rode the wave of another contraction and gave a pained smile to the man. "He's Josh, and I'm Hope."

"Well, that's surely somethin' we could all use nowadays. I'm pleased to meet you, ma'am. Name's Casper, but y'all can call me Cap. Come on in."

Fidel stayed at Hope's side like he was leashed, and Cap didn't seem to mind the dog's presence one bit as he held the door for Josh and Hope. Hope had to stop halfway into the house for another contraction, one hard enough that she yelped in pain.

"Bill, Mel, we've got company," called Cap.

A fifty-ish, distinguished-looking black man in a lab coat emerged from one room while a dark-haired young woman wearing a Mets hat and an apron came from another. "Hey, is she having a baby?" asked the woman.

"Yes," said Josh.

"Ah, shit. Get her onto that couch," said the woman. "I delivered a lady's kid in my cab one time. Goddamn Manhattan traffic, lemme tell ya. I'm Melanie, but everyone calls me Mel."

"Hope." Hope felt a gush between her legs and she knew her water had broken.

"Bill, you're a doctor, go sterilize some shit or somethin'."

"I'm a botanist," protested the black man.

"You got the damn diploma, you're a doctor," said Mel.

With Cap and Josh supporting her, Mel managed to remove Hope's overalls. They set her onto a towel on a couch and Mel set a thick stack of more towels between her legs. Hope's contractions were coming faster and harder, and it was all she could do to keep from screaming. "You've done this… before?"

"Once," said Mel. "But mostly I just caught the baby to keep it offa the floor. You ever seen the floor of a New York taxicab?"

The hardest contraction yet hit Hope and she gave voice to it at last, screaming out her pain. She squeezed Josh's fingers until he winced, but he didn't let go of her hand. "I want to push," she said. "Can I push?"

"I dunno," said Mel. "I ain't a doctor. You're just gonna have to listen to your body, lady."

"Do whatever you need to," said Cap at her shoulder. "Women have been having babies a lot longer without doctors' help than otherwise. Trust yourself."

Hope looked up at Josh. He smiled at her. "Go for it," he said. "You're doing great."

She nodded. "Help me up."

Cap and Josh moved her until she was perched right on the edge of the couch, almost squatting over the stack of towels. Mel hunched down to get a better look. Hope squeezed Josh's hand, took a deep breath, and pushed until her vision blurred and her ears popped. Panting with the effort already, she rode out the wave of pain. "Anything?"

"Nothin' yet," said Mel.

Hope settled into her pattern.

Push, push, push, rest. Sip weak tea with honey from the kitchen. Push, push, push, rest. Cry. Swear. Cry. Sometimes it was Cap at her left side with his polite southern charm, never complaining as she squeezed his fingers hard enough to bruise them. Push, push, push, rest. Sometimes it was Bill instead of Cap, trying to overcome his New England reticence to be involved. But Josh never left her right side, not as the minutes stretched into hours. Push, push, push, rest.

Sweat poured off Hope until it dripped from the hem of her t-shirt. One of the men stoked up the fire in the fireplace so the room would be a comfortable place for the newborn whenever he arrived. If Hope could have formed a coherent thought, she'd have asked Josh to take off her top. She didn't care about modesty; she'd been a stripper, and she was so hot. It hurt so much. Why wouldn't he come? Slender hips made for an attractive dancer's figure, but not for childbirth. What if he was stuck? So hot. "Josh… my shirt…" she managed to gasp. Josh lifted her stained t-shirt over her head. Her naked belly skin shone with sweat and pressure as her son tried to find his way out into the world.

Push, push, push…

"I can see the head!" squeaked Mel. "Right there! Keep goin'!"

Push…

Hope wanted to scream, but she had worn her voice ragged hours ago.

Push…

"He's comin'," said Mel. "Bill, get those tools ready."

Push…

Push…

Push
…

Hope screamed.

"Oh my God, his head's out. You got this, lady. Just his shoulders left."

Josh's hand was cool between her shoulder blades, and his hand was warm and soft against hers, even slicked with their intermingled sweat.

Push
…

"I got him! I got him!" Mel screamed. "Bill, cut the cord! Use your sucker thingie on his nose!"

Hope fell backwards onto the couch, spent. She couldn't draw breath hard or fast enough to cry or scream or sing. She managed a choking sob as Josh tucked a golden blanket around her shoulders and over her waist to give her some modesty. She would have thanked him if she could have spared the thoughts, but all she wanted now was to hold her son. Somewhere in the room, he howled at the indignity of being thrust into the world.

And then Mel was handing him to her. She'd wiped the newborn's skin down and wrapped him in a towel. She was crying. "He's a boy. He's beautiful. Happy birthday, Li'l fella."

Hope held her son against her and her tears came at last.

Chapter Forty

Hope and the Messenger

Time passed.

The day the messenger came, Hope was working in the garden with her son's help. She would dig a careful hole in the rich loam, then place a seedling into it from the wheelbarrow. Then her son would tamp the dirt around the fresh planting and pour a cup of collected rainwater onto it to help it pack down. With careful tending, Bill's seedlings would grow into beans, tomatoes, peppers, and more.

When the New England botanist had first come to Graceland, well before Hope and Josh, he'd been carrying a treasure trove's worth of seeds with him and he put all his knowledge to good use to help feed the growing colony.

He worked in his lab, doing scientific things with plants that Hope couldn't begin to imagine. That was okay with her, because she'd found her love lay in the art of the actual gardening. Whether tending the crops for others or maintaining her own garden of flowers, every day Hope spent with her hands and feet in the dirt and mud was never one wasted. Her son had developed a similar love of growing things, and the room they shared in the Graceland mansion was full of tiny pots of things he'd planted himself.