Elvis Lives

Chapter 29 - Daddy

Lisa went back up the stairs, and I immediately stood up. My heart started racing away as I heard her walking and shutting a door. Desperation filled every feature on my face. She heard me sing, and I knew from the look that she had in those eyes identical to mine that she heard her father, not a fake.

"Go and talk to her," Harper prodded. "Please. We want her to be as happy as we are."

Priscilla stood up and clung to my left arm. "Yes, please talk with her. She knows who you are, I feel in my bones that she does."

"Okay. I'll go."

"And call her Lisa Marie. That's what you always called her as she grew up."

I nodded and started up the stairs, my nerves rattling me. My family knew was me, and it seemed that Lisa probably knew, she was just in denial. If I were in her shoes, I would be.

I came into a hallway as soon as I left the stairs, and I slowly walked down it, eyeing pictures that were on the walls. I stopped for a moment. There were grey pictures of me, as well as colored ones from later in my life, ones that showed me with both Priscilla and Lisa, when Lisa was a small child, and boy, did she look like me in those pictures! It was uncanny! The pictures went on to show Priscilla and Lisa growing older, and I was absent in the pictures. I passed away by then, on until there were pictures of a young Benjamin, Riley, and soon Harper and Finely. This whole wall was a visual timeline of my family, from me when I was young with my parents, up until what looked like Harper's and Finley's school pictures. This was my family. I rose a hand and touched a picture of only Lisa, looking around eight or nine years old. She was this age when I passed in 1977. How horrible a time that must had been for her, for my family, and it happened because I got addicted to drugs and my body failed me.

That wasn't going to happen.

I heard soft cries coming from one of the rooms down the hallway, which brought me to walk away from my family's pictures and came closer to the cries. The door to the room that the cries were coming from was open about a foot. I came up to it, pushed the door gently and peeked in. I saw Lisa sitting on the edge of a large bed with a deep red blanket over it, a book in her lap, over her black pants that looked similar to mine. She was even wearing a white blouse. She resembled me even more - our outfits were similar.

Cries escaped her as she flipped through the book. It was a photo album, and I could see from where I stood that they were pictures of me. This poor woman was hurting, and I was the cause.

Taking a deep breath of courage, and knowing I should never enter a lady's bedroom without knocking, since that was what my momma taught me, I knocked on the open door. Lisa looked up, and I saw her whole face wet with tears. Her blue eyes widened as I stood there for a couple of seconds, and she stared at me, saying nothing.

"Excuse me, Lisa Marie..."

She shut the photo album and stood up but faced a dresser that was next to the bed. "Please leave."

My heart sunk to my toes. Maybe her family misconstrued what she really was thinking and feeling. She didn't believe who I was at all. I nodded, knowing I shouldn't push this like I did with Drake. "Okay. I'm sorry for distubin' ya."

I turned to go, but stopped when I heard behind me, "Wait a minute." I turned to face her again. She came up to me, not leaving my gaze. "Who are you?"

She was expecting me to tell her I was an impersonator. "I have a feelin' that you wouldn't believe what I tell ya, even though you already know what it is. But that's okay. I don't want you to hurt more on account of me. I'll just say how wonderful it is to meet you... no, it's an honor, Lisa Marie. Really." Tears burned my eyes, and I felt my throat tighten a little. "I've seen pictures of ya, but seeing you in person... I really can't believe my eyes."