1956. A girl in the crowd is proposed to by her boyfriend in front of Elvis. It would be a lovely moment if it weren't for the three other girls he also dated. All of them were present at the same time and place, just after Elvis' concert. As the dr...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
* chapter music * - I'm Coming Home (Film Mix) - Elvis Presley
_____________________________
◌ ◌ ◌
______________________
Elvis POV
The 19th of March, 1957
The thrill of rolling up that gravel path, through old gates and light swaying leaves following the flow of the wind, made it impossible to conceal that grin of mine—leaving my sorrows for later. Serene tranquility mixed with the start of spring, all green of new life getting breathed in and out. As if the tall trees still felt young from the many years they had grown—not letting go of their childhood glee and blissful way of seeing the world.
With one hand on the steering wheel and one feeling the breeze, I looked over at my Mama. Flickering sunlight hit us as we took the first drive in the pink Cadillac through Graceland, with it being ours. Sometimes the warm rays would get through the moving greens, and others sent patterns of frolic-moving shadows. While his hands were at the back of our seats, my dad leaned in between us to share the moment with us from the back seat.
We were ecstatic, and I could see my Mama's eyes go glossy—almost reflecting the long story of how our lives had brought us here. Switching hands, I reached out to her and left it open for her to take. Taking it, she leaned in to kiss the both of us on our cheeks. My dad twice—one on his cheeks and one on his mouth.
Looking away to give them their moment, we closed in on the house. Parking just at the bottom of the tall stone stairs, I sprung out the door in a curve to my Mama's side--making small pebbles of light gravel jump. It was as though every fiber of my happiness had been set on the high setting. A feeling I hadn't felt in a while, only in fractions of times.
The pink door flung open as I gave her the overly excited gesture of my hand. I had no time to waste—and getting her to her feet, we both gazed at our new home. Joining us shortly after, my dad seemed to be mesmerized. Fields of grass stretching in all directions of the fourteen acres of land, with our house at the center, met us. Massive white double pillars stretched high at the top of the tall stairs, holding up the extension of the roof. Decked in white ornaments, it reminded me of old temples in Greece. With wide double front doors, the house presented us with the feeling of being welcomed—but I didn't need to see them to feel so. I had it all within, with my Ma's hand in mine and my father's presence. And as if making a home, the elated moment had us all in the seventh heaven.
The eight large windows with green bars spread symmetrically over the two floors and gave me the promise of a home we could grow in. There would be laughter; there would be darkness. But most of all, family, time passing—and an establishing life building itself.
There were extensions made up of white concrete from each side of the naturally uneven beige-stoned-decked house. The left side had a rather long ensemble of rooms, while the other had a large room with rising tall, modern windows. Behind our house, we had a stable for the possibility of getting horses. I knew my Mama wanted chickens, but I had my dream of reviving that stable. It would be a view of life from all sides of the house, never quite quiet, with the feeling of each day having the possibility of turning over a new leaf.
