All Shook Up

I arrived in Graceland late last night. I mean, really late. Around 2 AM. I checked into another motel in Memphis and tried to concentrate on something other than the heat. Unfortunately, the heat made it hard to go to sleep and there wasn't much on television at 2 AM. I ended up walking down the hallway to get a bucket of ice sometime around 3 AM...and that's when I met him.

I had just filled my ice bucket and I heard a voice behind me.

"Did you know Elvis had a twin brother?" I turned around so quickly, I dropped the bucket. The man was tall and scrawny. His face twitched, like he was perpetually flinching. "Jesse Garon Presley. Born 35 minutes before him. Stillborn."

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Who?" he said. He moved his arms up in a weird fashion and I backed up. "No, no, they didn't appear until 1964. We're talking about Elvis. About twins. Romulus and Remus. Castor and Pollux. Tweedledee and Tweedledum." His arms moved up and down. "Elvis and Jesse. Grace and Derek."

"Who. Are. You?" I said, trying to sound more threatening than scared.

"I was..." He paused, as if to think. "I was the Vagabond. But I can't be that anymore. I saw her and she touched me, but I thought I had escaped. But I hadn't. You never escape. Never ever ever. Even now. I can't be the Vagabond anymore and I can't be Neville anymore. Can't." He stopped moving his arms, as if realizing he had just given away his name. "But that isn't important. Who I am isn't important." He pointed at me. "It's who you are." He looked up. "Told you too much. Or just enough. It's what she wanted. It's always what she wanted."

He started walking away from me down the hallway, his arms still moving up and down in weird patterns. He started talking again. "It's not the destinations," he said. "It's the journey. No, no, that was 1973. See the pattern, find the pattern. Stars, lights, moon, dreams." He came to the end of the hallway and turned back to me. "It's all about your dreams, Grace."

The patterns on the wallpaper were moving. I just noticed them. The lines on the wallpaper were moving around and around and they finally emerged from the wall and wrapped themselves around Neville. "Nighty-night, Grace," he said as it pulled him into the wall and he disappeared.

I left the ice bucket on the floor and went back to my room and didn't get a wink of sleep.


The next day, I didn't even have to go to Graceland. On the hood of my car was a note:

And on the back:

I don't what to make of it. I don't know what to make of anything.

God, I'm so tired. I just want to rest. But I can't because...I'm afraid. I'm afraid of dreaming.

wary,